A Snake Inside Morgenstern Manor
by DallasFaye
Summary: What life is like for Jace Morgenstern, stuck in a sprawling manor house with a psychotic brother who wants him dead and a father who is hiding something from them both.
1. Chapter 1

"You know the rules: no choking, no eye shots, no low blows, and release all holds when they tap. Keep it clean, boys." Valentine said lazily from the outside of the ring.

Jace nodded at his father and finished slipping on the fingerless gloves they used for kick boxing. Jonathan only stretched his long arms and looked at Jace with slightly narrowed eyes. Jace jumped in place and rolled his neck around a few times to prepare himself.

Sparing with his older brother Jonathan always ended up being personal. Jace always tried to keep the fight from becoming too heated but it usually always ended badly because neither boy would back down from the other willingly. Their father wouldn't even allow them to spar when he wasn't supervising because sever injuries were sustained in the past; things like broken wrists, arms, and ankles.

They were both wearing similar outfits; black athletic pants and tighter long sleeved shirts. The only difference was that Jace's shirt was black whereas Jonathan's was red.

Both boys stepped into the center if the ring and touched the knuckles of their gloves together; this was the one and only gentle exchange of the fight. Valentine strolled up to the ropes and leaned on them, looking bored but ready to intervene when things got too rough, which they inevitably would; the two brothers were like fire and gasoline together.

Jace and Jonathan raised their fists and began to circle each other, both looking for an opening to strike.

"Master Morganstern, pardon my interrupting, but something has come up that requires your attention." The butler said sa he opened the door of the large training room. Valentine huffed impatiently before turning to the butler.

"What is it now, Samuel?" He said as he sauntered over to the doorway.

Jace jerked his gaze away from the interruption as he saw Jonathan swing from his left. Jace ducked and punched Jonathan in the stomach while blocking with his right hand. The blow struck hard but it barely seemed to phase the other blonde boy. Jonathan danced up and began a complicated series of strikes that ended with a kick to the stomach. In the split second that it took Jonathan to prepare his kick, Jace slammed his fist into his jaw. Jonathan stumbled back and gave Jace a look of fury, his eyes bright with hate. Jace danced closer, trying to see a way past Jonathan's defenses.

"What do you mean you let him get away!" Valentine roared suddenly from the other end of the room. Jace jumped and glanced at his father and the terrified butler.

Suddenly Jonathan twined his leg through Jace's and shoved him backwards with both hands. Jace gasped in surprise as he fell hard to the mat. Jonathan fell with him but slightly to the side and out of reach of Jace's swings. Jonathan straddled Jace's hips and began punching viciously at his face. Jace covered his face behind his forearms and waited for an opening to strike at Jonathan's diaphragm. The opening never came. Jonathan grabbed Jace's wrists and slammed his arms down to the mat by his head. Then Jonathan leaned down with a malicious smile on his handsome face.

"Rule number one little brother," he said softly. " Never get distracted." Jace glared up at him angrily while trying to get his arms free. Jonathan chuckled softly. "When are you going to learn little angel boy? You just can't beat me." He said with a sinister grin. Jace stopped struggling.

"I don't know why you even try to impress him, Jonathan. It's pointless because Father's only ever been proud of me. We both know that…darling big brother." Jace said sweetly with hate burning in his eyes.

Jonathan's grin disappeared and was replaced by a snarl of fury. His hands released Jace's wrists and slipped up around his throat tightly. Jace choked and pulled at Jonathan's forearms. Jonathan squeezed tighter, his white blonde hair falling forward into his ink black eyes.

A cruel smile twisted his mouth when Jace gasped and slapped his hand once to the mat. He felt Jonathan dig his thumb mercilessly into the hollow at the base of his throat and felt his air disappear completely. _He's trying to kill me…_Jace thought unbelievingly as black spots dotted his vision. His lungs began to ache from the lack of air and his windpipe was screaming from the tight grip of Jonathan's strong hands.

Jace's last gasp was barely audible and Jonathan laughed softly before looking up to see where their father was; he was going to make sure to use his father's distraction to his utmost advantage…Jace took the opportunity to pull his leg up and knee him in the groin. The crushing hands slipped away from his throat as Jonathan groaned at the sudden pain.

Furious, Jace sat up and threw his arm around the back of Jonathan's neck and pulled him into a tight head lock. He then pushed himself up off the mat and rolled them so that he was on top of Jonathan. Breathing air heavily into his aching lungs and bruised and burning throat, Jace took a hold of Jonathan's left wrist so he couldn't block as well, while slamming his fist into his face as hard as he could. He hit him again and again, getting angrier with every punch.

Suddenly, a big hand grabbed him by the upper arm and yanked him up off of Jonathan. He was thrown backwards onto the mat so hard his teeth rattled. Jace looked up, panting, at his father's angry face.

"I said that's enough. When I say that's enough…" Valentine said loudly. "I mean, that's enough!" His voice echoed throughout the large room. Jonathan braced his hands on the mat and started to stand up. "Did I say you could get up?" Valentine said in a soft and dangerous voice. Jonathan's eyes lowered submissively, but Jace saw him clench his jaw before saying,

"No, sir." Jace rose up to his elbows as Jonathan wiped blood from his nose.

"Now who started it this time…no wait, let me guess. You're both going to say 'he did' aren't you." The boys stared at each other; Jonathan with a narrowed glare and Jace with an indignant anger. "So who wants to come clean and admit that they were the one that started fighting dirty?" Silence. "Disappointing. It just so happens that I saw who started it." Jace looked up at his father. "Get up. Both of you." Valentine said. They got to their feet. "Now I want you to apologize and shake hands like men." Valentine said while looking back and forth between his two sons. No one did anything. "Do not. Make me repeat myself." Valentine said in ringing tones. Reluctantly, Jace stepped forward.

"Sorry." He said as he offered his hand out to his brother, not meaning his apology in the slightest. Jonathan glanced down at his outstretched hand. When his eyes returned to Jace's face, they were lit with some emotion that Jace couldn't read. Jonathan stepped forward and closed his hand around Jace's.

"As am I, little brother." He said coldly. Then Jonathan pulled Jace towards him and punched him hard in the face. The impact sent Jace careening sideways. Blood filled his mouth as Valentine shoved Jonathan back towards the ropes.

"Go. I'll deal with your disobedience later, Jonathan." Jace caught Jonathan's eyes and spat a mouthful of blood at his brother's feet.

"You hit like a bitch." Jace said. Jonathan smirked arrogantly as he turned away and slipped under the ropes of the ring with his pit-like eyes sparkling.


	2. Chapter 2

"You wanted to speak to me Father?" Jonathan said as he entered the training room later that day. Valentine was standing in the middle of the ring, dressed in sparing clothes and gloves. He looked up as he heard his eldest son's voice.

"Go get changed." Valentine said. Jonathan came to a stop outside the ring, his face, so like Valentine's, slipping into a confused frown.

"But sparing is over for the day." Valentine looked down at him, his black eyes glittering.

"Well I thought since you wanted to fight so badly today you wouldn't object to another round. With me this time." He said smoothly.

Jonathan could only stare up at him. He couldn't help the blossoming regret and trepidation that began to unfurl in his stomach. He shouldn't have gotten so carried away while teaching his pathetic brother a lesson earlier. _But he deserved it…_the voice in his head whispered with venom. _He thinks he's better than you. He deserves much more than what you gave him earlier…_Jonathan tuned out the voice as his father slowly began walking towards the ropes in front of him.

"You have five minutes to be ready and in front of me in this ring, Jonathan." Valentine said softly. Jonathan met his eyes for a second before turning to the adjoining locker room; his father was never more dangerous than when he spoke quietly.

Somehow, Jonathan had forgotten quite how large his father really was until he was standing in front of him, preparing to fight him. He stretched out his arms and legs as he eyed his father's broad chest and hulking shoulders and arms. Valentine was easily twice his size, if not more, and the entirety of his bulk was all muscle and experience. Jonathan's eyes slipped closed for a second when he saw his father clenching his fists and staring at him with a very controlled rage. The blossoming feeling in his stomach came back, only stronger this time, making Jonathan's pulse pick up.

They stepped up to each other in the center of the mat and touched the knuckles of their gloves together. Jonathan made sure to meet his father's eyes as he did; at least he could act like he wasn't already regretting his attack on Jace earlier. Thinking about Jace seemed to chase away the apprehension, and Jonathan felt a darkness running through his veins that he recognized as the feeling of intense hatred that he felt for his younger brother.

Valentine and Jonathan began to circle each other and Jonathan let the darkness inside him be directed at the man who protected Jace from him.

Valentine sensed a change in his eldest son. His dark, pit-like eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened as he stared back at him, waiting for an opening to strike like the snake he was harboring inside of him. Valentine couldn't help but feel paternal pride at the look of hard determination on Jonathan's face; it reminded him of himself when he was seventeen, thinking he stood a chance against forces greater than he. What a pity that in Jonathan's case…he was wrong.

Valentine feinted left and Jonathan blocked but wasn't quick enough to stop Valentine's right fist from connecting hard into his ribs. Jonathan gasped and staggered back a few steps, his hand pressed into his side. Valentine let him retreat, knowing that his side was aching after the hit it took. The boy would have bruises for weeks…Valentine's eyes narrowed and a patronizing grin tugged up the corner of his mouth.

"Mmm." He murmured sympathetically, "That hurt didn't it? You don't want me to do that again do you?" Jonathan stared up at his father, anger making his black eyes even darker. Then Jonathan dropped his hand from his side and straightened up, barely wincing as he did.

Again, Valentine felt pride swell inside him; Jonathan was the perfect soldier. Well not quite…perfect soldiers had a lot more discipline than his oldest son had. Ah well, nothing he couldn't teach him to have…Valentine waited for Jonathan to strike first this time, already knowing which moves he would make.

Valentine blocked the boy's fast jabs at his face but allowed the kick to his stomach, simply tightening his abdomen to take the edge of the blow. Valentine caught his ankle and swept his foot at the back of Jonathan's remaining knee, sending him down to the mat hard.

"Ah, Jonathan…you're so predicable." He taunted. Jonathan rolled to his feet with an agility that would best anyone of his age…except maybe Jace. But then again, like Jonathan, Jace wasn't an ordinary Shadowhunter. Valentine had made certain that their lives would be far from ordinary before they were even born…they were his living, breathing weapons; and it was all to serve his greater purpose.

Valentine smiled again as he saw the anger on his son's face. He had taught them to control their emotions better but it seemed that Jace was the only one who had learned that particular skill. Valentine felt a thread of anger weave through himself. It sometimes seemed that Jonathan learned nothing; that his pride and arrogance burned out everything else, including the boy's humanity.

Valentine had seen the malicious smile on Jonathan's face as he choked Jace earlier. He had enjoyed it, had enjoyed causing his brother pain. Valentine had also seen Jace tap out and Jonathan should have released his illegal choke hold immediately but he hadn't. Instead, he had tightened his grip mercilessly. If it had been any other boy besides Jace, who was just as good a fighter as his brother, Jonathan would have killed him.

Much more than a thread of anger coursed through Valentine as he stared at his son. Now he felt a paternal pride for Jace and a strong desire to punish Jonathan for his cruelty.

Valentine easily brushed aside Jonathan's punches before grabbing his wrist and pulling him into a complicated move that slammed him back down onto the mat. Jonathan's chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. Valentine stood over him.

"Get up."

Jonathan got to his feet and prepared for his father's next attack, knowing from the quiet tone of his voice that it was only going to get worse. Valentine advanced on him, throwing punches almost quicker than Jonathan could see. His fist slipped past Jonathan's defenses and struck his jaw so hard he was thrown backwards into the ropes.

Jonathan blinked sweat out of his eyes and ignored the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Valentine struck him hard and fast in the diaphragm, knocking the breath out of him completely. Before he had time to recover, Valentine grabbed his upper arm and threw him roughly down to the center of the mat as easily as he would throw a doll. Jonathan gasped as air finally returned to his aching lungs. He pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, panting lightly as Valentine strode up behind him and grabbed his ankle.

"Now you're going to learn what it feels like to ask for mercy and be denied it." Valentine said in a low, dangerous voice. He locked his hands around Jonathan's ankle before twisting it hard to the right.

Jonathan yelled out at the sudden pain and tried to roll over onto his back to get out of the ankle lock. Valentine didn't let him. He tightened his grip and twisted his ankle even harder, holding it mercilessly in the twisted position.

Jonathan clenched his teeth to keep from screaming in pain and slapped his hand to the mat once in submission. Valentine twisted his ankle further in response. Jonathan groaned loudly and dropped his forehead to the mat, his eyes squeezed shut in agony. He knew Valentine wasn't going to let him go yet…that would be too easy. He dug his fingers into the mat so his father wouldn't see them shaking.

"Have you learned your lesson, Jonathan?" Jonathan winced at the sharp pains that were crippling his ankle and shooting up his leg.

"Yes." He said, breathless from the pain. Valentine twisted his ankle slowly this time, making Jonathan bite down on his lip so hard his teeth drew blood.

"What was that?" Valentine asked him. Jonathan's fingers dug harder into the mat.

"Yes, sir." Valentine's face remained blank.

"And what lesson did you learn?" He asked quietly.

"Don't fight dirty…and when your opponent taps out, let them go." Jonathan said through his clenched teeth. Valentine held Jonathan's twisted ankle tightly as he considered his son's answer. The wait seemed like hours to Jonathan.

"Wrong." Valentine said coldly before breaking Jonathan's ankle with a loud snap.

Jonathan's tortured scream of pain echoed throughout the training room. Valentine finally released his ankle before reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his son's white blonde hair. He pulled Jonathan up onto his knees by his hair before bending his head back so that he was staring up at him. His son's black eyes, identical to his own, were glassy with pain.

"The lesson is: No matter how big and bad you think you are, there will always be somebody bigger and a thousand times more bad. And that somebody is me, Jonathan. It would be in your best interest to never forget that." Valentine said as he felt his fingers tighten in his son's hair. "Do you understand me?" Jonathan stared up at his father, resisting the urge to wince at the tight grip he had on his hair, and felt his hatred for Jace grow even more; something he didn't think was possible until now.

"Yes, sir." He said quietly.

Valentine released Jonathan's hair before ambling slowly over to the edge of the ring. Jonathan gripped his broken ankle with both hands and watched him wearily, his ankle throbbing sickeningly. When Valentine returned to the ring, he was holding something in his hand that Jonathan couldn't see. His pulse picked up as his father approached him with the unknown object. He couldn't read the expression on Valentine's face and it frightened him. Valentine stopped in front of him and stared down at Jonathan.

"You don't deserve this." he said coldly.

Jonathan felt cold sweat trickle down his back and suppressed a shiver. He looked down at his knuckles; they were white with the grip that he had on his damaged ankle.

Suddenly, Valentine sat down on the mat in front of him. He reached out and pulled Jonathan's hands away from his ankle and curled his own big hand around it instead. Jonathan winced at the pain it caused him.

Valentine then pulled his oldest son closer towards him on the mat before raising the object in his left hand; his stele. Valentine sensed the relief emanating from Jonathan like a wave. He pushed up the edge of Jonathan's pant leg and began tracing a healing rune on the bruised skin of his broken ankle.

The pain of the Mark was nothing compared to the pain of his ankle, but the smell of his skin burning made Jonathan's stomach clench. Soon, he felt the soothing effects of the healing rune and sighed quietly as the pain left him and his ankle healed itself. Valentine released his son's ankle and stood, towering over Jonathan.

"I suggest you pay more attention to your lessons the first time you learn them, Jonathan. For I have very little patience for those who waste my time." He said as he left the ring and strode out of the training room.

Jonathan watched him go, his fingertips absently tracing over small crescent shaped dents in the mat. He looked down at them and felt his face harden stoically, the way his father had taught him to look whenever he was feeling emotions he didn't want to acknowledge.

Jonathan stood up and walked off the mat as well, stepping on the deep gouges his nails had made in the tough material when his father had snapped his ankle as easily and with as little effort as he would've snapped a dry and weather beaten twig.


	3. Chapter 3

*Thanks everyone for all your comments I really enjoyed and appreciated them! Hope you guys enjoy it's about Jace like everybody requested =) keep reading n responding please*

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Cassandra Clare**

Jace breathed in the quiet, country air and crept towards the barn door soundlessly. It was late at night; the stable boys were long gone. Jace edged his fingers into the crack of the door and eased it open before gracefully slipping inside. He quickly pushed the door closed before turning and peering into the gloom of the barn, the only light shining down from the two high windows at the top of the loft. He paused and listened for noises outside the large barn and when he was sure he hadn't been followed, Jace breathed a sigh of relief.

All the horses were in their stables, but none of them seemed to be asleep. Jace grinned; it was like they knew he would be coming to see them tonight. He walked towards his horse's stall, his boots making soft scuffing sounds as he stepped on the scattered hay. The large chestnut horse whinnied at Jace in greeting.

With the grin still pulling up the corner of his mouth, Jace climbed over the fence of the stall and walked up slowly to his horse, stopping when he was a few feet away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a carrot. His horse raised its head and shuffled back and forth. Jace smiled at him and dangled the carrot.

"You want it?" The horse snorted in response. "Come on. Come get it then." The horse didn't move. Jace couldn't suppress a sigh; his father had these horses trained better than the best dogs. They almost had no free will left.

Jace softly clicked his tongue and the horse sauntered over to him immediately, nostrils flaring as it smelled the treat. Jace held it up and his horse pulled it from his hand eagerly and chomped it. Jace winced as he imagined the horse chomping his fingers with the same grinding snaps the carrot made. His horse snorted at him then, blowing his hair back, almost as if it knew what he had been thinking. Jace smiled and ran his hand up the horse's velvety nose, relaxing completely for the first time in days.

He liked coming out to the barn on quiet nights like this. It was the only place on their property where he could go without worrying about having to fake what he was feeling. His father was always too busy to come out here and Jonathan…couldn't stand the smell. His brother didn't like animals very much, except when they were on his plate or the moving target of his arrows. Jace personally believed that somebody like Jonathan shouldn't even have animals. With a sigh, he gave his horse one last pat before turning back to the gate.

His hand brushed the padlock as he climbed up the wooden gate and he frowned at it. Valentine kept all the horse's stables padlocked for some reason. Only himself and the head stable boy were allowed to have the keys to them. _It's probably so I don't try running away. _He thought to himself bitterly as he swung his leg over the fence and dropped down onto the floor gracefully. His father must know how much he hates living here…so why else would he always keep the horses locked up if not to keep Jace prisoner?

Jace ambled over to Jonathan's horse, thinking that of all the things living at the Morganstern Manor, he himself was not the most mistreated. Jace's heart squeezed painfully as he peered over the gate at the big black horse that was huddled in the farthest corner. The beast stared back at him without blinking, her huge eyes glassy with mistrust and fear.

Jace clenched his hands on the wooden gate so hard he felt more than one splinter dig into his palms. Slowly, to not frighten the horse, Jace pulled himself up onto the gate. The black mare whinnied and stepped back into the wall away from him, her eyes growing even wider. Jace clenched his teeth and held still, waiting for her to realize that he wasn't his brother. When the horse stopped retreating, Jace slowly swung his leg over the gate, never taking his eyes off her and willing her to stay calm. The mare flicked her tail nervously and lowered her head. Jace pulled his other leg over the gate and dropped down onto the straw scattered floor.

The mare neighed loudly and danced backwards away from him so fast her rump hit the gate and made it rattle like an instrument. Jace held up his hands and spoke in his softest voice.

"Shhh. You're okay. It's not him, it's me. Easy, girl." The horse's ears pricked up at his soothing tone, but she didn't seem to recognize him. Jace slowly slipped his fingers into his pocket and pulled out another carrot. He then held it up in front of him, feeling like it was a white surrender flag, and carefully took a step towards Jonathan's horse. His boot cracked a twig in half and the snap was startling enough to make the horse edge back and rear up on her hind legs for a second. Jace stopped and held his breath, praying that she wouldn't panic and run at him and crush him into the gate.

"You're okay…I'm not gunna hurt you." Jace murmured as he stepped closer. He had the feeling that the horse couldn't even smell the carrot over the smell of her own fear. Hatred for his cruel brother shivered through him and made his skin feel hot. Jace kneeled down and dropped the carrot on the floor in front of him. Then he slowly stood up and backed away to the gate. The horse didn't look away from his face to see what he had left for her. Jace dug his fingers into the gate behind him and softly clicked his tongue at her. His chest tightened as she immediately stepped forward, like a puppet being pulled on a string, but even more obedient to his commands. She walked forward, her head low, and almost stepped on the carrot. She stopped in front of it, smelling it, all the while keeping her big eyes locked on Jace.

"Go ahead, it's yours." He said softly. The horse took the carrot into its muzzle and started chomping it slowly. Jace pulled out her second carrot and rolled it between his palms. He always brought Jonathan's horse two carrots because he felt like she deserved one more than his own horse. He held it out to her, not dangling it around teasingly like he did with his horse for fear of frightening her again. She raised her head and sniffed at it, but didn't move. Neither did Jace.

"Come on. You have to come get this one." he said to her. A sad grin curved his lips. "Don't worry, I trust you." The horse whined softly and pranced a step to the side. Jace clicked his tongue twice. She cautiously stepped forward, her nostrils wiggling as she smelled the carrot in front of her. Seeing the undiluted fear in her eyes at being so close to him almost broke his heart. Jace clicked his tongue again, partially hating himself for it. She took the last steps to him as he had commanded, and took the carrot out of his hand without taking her eyes off his. Jace sighed in relief.

He slowly held his palm out to her and tried not to laugh when her velvety mouth tickled his hand while she searched for stray chunks of carrot she may have missed. He ran his other hand up her smooth face, trying to get her to remember his scent. She swayed her head away from his hand, but stayed in front of him. Jace rubbed between her ears and was immensely pleased when she didn't flinch away from him again. His brother was an idiot…how could he not love such a sweetheart?

He continued to pet her face, but his eyes traveled down her back and settled on the burn on her left hip. The brand had the fancy letters 'JM' on it. His brother had requested his own personalized brand for his horse, and had even used it on her himself. "To make it official." Jonathan had said boastfully.

Jace had then turned to his father and requested that he have a special brand too, only he wanted the letters D-I-C-K on his so he could brand his brother's forehead with it. Jace hadn't been attempting humor and Valentine hadn't been amused regardless. Jace's punishment for 'being rude' had been getting the backs of his hands hit with a leather horse whip. Even though his hands were red, raw, and throbbing after Valentine was done, Jace couldn't spare a second of thought for his trivial pain when Jonathan's horse had just been burned by the cretin himself.

Jace held the mare's face between his hands and touched his forehead to hers. She turned her head and nuzzled at his cheek, finally recognizing him as the blonde brother that didn't ever hurt her and went out of his way to try to make up for her rider's cruelness. Jace smiled and kissed her nose, he couldn't help it; she was just too damn cute.

"Well isn't that just the sweetest thing." A voice drawled from behind him.

Jace jumped and spun around towards the voice, making the mare step back nervously and whine in alarm. Jace turned his back on his father and went to her, rubbing her face again to get her to calm down.

"It's okay…" Jace murmured to her. The horse didn't seem to hear him and wasn't looking at him. Jace could see the silhouette of his father leaning against the gate in the reflection of her wide eyes.

"Wow. My son, the horse whisperer. I have to admit," Valentine said with a sneer, "I didn't see this coming." Jace bit back the retort he had thought of and turned to face his father, making his expression blank.

"I figured she needed some extra attention since her rider…" Jace stopped himself. Valentine raised his eyebrows and tilted his head curiously.

"Since her rider what, Jace? Haven't I always told you to speak your mind?" A crease appeared between Jace's eyebrows.

"You've never once told me to speak my mind." He said stiffly, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Valentine smiled kindly. "In fact, I think you've specifically said that 'a good son never talks back or questions his father, instead he keeps his smart mouth shut and is respectful no matter what.'"

"Yeah? That _does_ sound like me." Valentine said jovially. "Well, better late then never eh?" he said smoothly, his eyes gleaming as he stared at his youngest son, daring him with his eyes to say what he had been thinking.

Jace battled against his stubborn rebelliousness, and failed miserably after only a few seconds. He walked up to the gate, putting himself between his father and Jonathan's horse in case Valentine decided to throw something at him.

"I was gunna say," Jace began slowly, his head raising defiantly and completely against his volition, "That I thought she needed some extra attention since her rider… is a cruel bastard that enjoys hurting creatures he thinks are below him because he's a heartless, fucking moron." _Oops…_ Jace thought. _That wasn't even what I was gunna say…ah well. Too late now. _

Valentine stared at him without blinking. Jace felt his heart thudding in his chest but refused to look away from his father's burning, black stare. The barn had fallen silent around them; even the crickets had better sense then to start chirping. Every living creature around Jace seemed to know when to shut up…except for him. Valentine's eyes glittered like the dark carapaces of insects as he smiled.

"Where do you get that delightful arrogance from, boy?" Jace narrowed his eyes. "Surely, not from me." he said with a mocking laugh. Jace remained silent because he honestly didn't know what to say. Valentine smiled wider, and the hostility faded from his eyes. "Ah, Jace. You make me laugh. You remind me to be youthful." Jace smiled stiffly and rubbed his palms on his jeans.

"Thanks…" he said uncertainly. Valentine stepped away from the gate and beckoned Jace over with his large hand.

"Come out of there, kid, you'll smell like horses for hours." He said lightly. Jace stepped to the gate and climbed up it. Valentine ambled over to the gate across from Jonathan's horse and leaned on it, the muscles in his back making the rich satin of his expensive jacket strain slightly. Jace swung his long legs over the gate and dropped down on the floor, not trying to be quiet even though his feet hadn't made much noise anyways.

"So I assume you do this regularly?" Valentine said without looking at him. His youngest son sometimes wasn't very bright. He hadn't even noticed that Valentine had effectively coaxed him out of the confined safety of the stall with the same gentle tone that Jace himself had used with the frightened horse. Jace kicked hay out from under his boots before slipping his thumbs into his front pockets. Valentine looked at him over his broad shoulder when he didn't answer after three seconds. Jace shrugged, not wanting to admit to it but not wanting to lie either.

Somehow, Valentine always knew when he was lying. Once, after catching him in a lie, his father had told him it was his eyes that gave him away. He said they were too innocent and showed deception too clearly. Jace had had no choice but to agree since Valentine had some how figured out that he was lying. From that day on, Jace had practiced making his eyes hard and unyielding so that he could at least keep _some_ things from his father.

"I asked you a question, Jace." Valentine said as he turned to face him, his voice rumbling deeply. "And when I ask you a question, you answer me. Do you need to be reminded why it's a good idea to be respectful to me?" His tone had become softer, gentler; as it usually did when he was threatening someone. Jace shook his head.

"No, sir, I don't need to be reminded." He said stiffly, trying to keep the annoyance that he felt out of his voice. Valentine took three leisurely steps toward his son, knowing that his calm demeanor was far more threatening than if he chose to run at him. Valentine admired the fact that Jace looked him in the eyes while being reprimanded; while Jonathan had a tendency to always look away.

"Then answer my question the first time I ask it and do not make me wait while you try to think up a convincing enough lie." Valentine said softly. Jace nodded.

"Okay. I'll remember that…sir." He said. His father narrowed his anthracitic eyes at him and Jace felt his heart stutter over its next beat. "And no, Father, I don't come here regularly. I don't usually have the time to come play with horses." He said in an arrogant voice that reminded him instantly of Valentine. He didn't know where that tone had come from, but he hoped it would help him lie and sound convincing.

Valentine smiled and stared down into Jace's golden eyes, searching for that strange, innocent and guilty gleam that always gave him away while he was lying straight to his father's face.

While Jace didn't look much like him physically, as Jonathan did, Jace some times resembled him in ways that seemed more obvious then facial features. When Jace was angry, his eyes hardened and burned in the same way that Valentine's did even though they were different colors. When he wanted something, his voice dropped persuasively and took on a soft tone that became almost impossible to refuse, just like his father's. And when Jace was arrogant or prideful, his head rose up and his shoulders broadened while Valentine's exact smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth. Sometimes the resemblance was startling. This was one of those startling times where Valentine felt like he was looking at a mirror that reflected his own cadences back at him.

Jace just stood there under Valentine's searching gaze, his body relaxed, his eyes clear and truthful, and looked back at his father without fear.

Suddenly, just as his relaxed, and completely fake demeanor was starting to slip, Valentine backhanded him hard in the face.

Jace heard the crack of his father's hand on his cheek before he felt it, the strength of it making him stumble back as he lost his balance. Jace inhaled a breath through his teeth as the pain came suddenly with bruising force. He held his palm up to his face, his skin becoming hot as the blood rushed to it.

Valentine stared down at him with smoldering anger, ignoring completely the frightened sounds that the horses were making.

Jace prayed to the Angel that they would shut up before they got hit as well. Then he would really get in trouble because he would immediately go to their defense. He could clearly imagine the look on his father's face as he stepped defiantly between him and the animals that he considered dumb beasts.

"I have to say, you're getting much better at lying…that was very well done. You almost had everything down perfectly: the tone of voice, the body language, you knew what to say…even your eyes didn't give you away this time..." Valentine said maliciously with a small smile. "It seems like you've finally lost your innocence, Jace. It's about time, I was beginning to loose hope. So tell me…what happened to your wings, little angel boy?" He laughed.

Jace closed his eyes, trying to force down the anger that had flared up inside him hotter and more acrid than liquid metal. His cheek burned and throbbed persistently beneath his hand and he could feel Valentine smirking at him, waiting for an answer. Jace dropped his hand from his face and opened his eyes, feeling them brighten with his smoldering defiance.

"I broke them."


	4. Chapter 4

Valentine looked surprised. "You broke them?" Clearly, this was not the response he had been expecting. He had thought for sure that Jace would only glare at him for calling him 'little angel boy', which was Jonathan's nickname for him when they were fighting, which was constantly. Valentine didn't like the fact that Jace had the ability to surprise him. It made him feel vulnerable; an emotion that he was not accustomed to feeling, especially from a rebellious seventeen year old boy.

His son stared back at him, a large hand print appearing on his cheek like a blush.

"Yes, Father, I broke them. Does that shock you?" he said while narrowing his eyes mockingly. Valentine felt his face becoming hard like stone. Normally, Jace didn't speak to him like this, he must really be angry. Valentine's eyes lit maliciously.

"Yes. That does shock me. How did you break your wings then?" Jace swallowed, not sure how far he should push this. His father saw him hesitate. "Exactly. Your innocence is still in tact, just as I expected." he said patronizingly. "Since you're so soft at heart, you wouldn't mind telling me where you learned how to lie so well? Or would you rather confide your deepest secrets and feelings to the horses?"

Jace glared at him. He couldn't stand it when Valentine talked down to him like that. "I learned it from you of course. All you ever do is lie to me. Is it really so surprising that I sometimes pick up some of your nastier traits and habits?" Valentine looked at him with a cold and calculating look.

"And what other 'nasty traits and habits' have you picked up from me?" he took a step towards Jace, his expensive shoes crunching over hay. Jace remained silent, knowing now that he had gone too far.

"For instance…" Valentine looked at Jace again, not wanting to miss the boy's reaction. "Have you picked up my little habit of killing without remorse?" Jace's eyes widened fractionally.

"No. I haven't." Jace said quietly. A haunted smile appeared on Valentine's face as he took two more slow steps towards his son.

"Oh but you should…it's such a useful trait to have." Valentine whispered. Jace swallowed and tried to ignore the creeping sensation that was running up his spine. He really wished Valentine would quit smiling at him like that. "Maybe I should kill in front of you more often. That way you could keep mimicking me, like a good soldier." he said as he drew a wicked looking dagger out of his jacket. Jace wanted so badly to step away from him.

"I've told you before. I'm not your mindless little soldier." Jace said with false bravado.

"Oh really?" Valentine ran his fingertips over the edge of the dagger and continued to stare at Jace. "So if I told you to take this blade…you wouldn't? You would disobey me?" The animals fell silent again. At the back of his mind, Jace wished he hadn't come to the barn tonight. He felt like something terrible was about to happen.

Sweat began to bead at Jace's temples as he reached out his hand for the blade. A sinister grin curved his father's mouth. Jace was almost as easy to read as Jonathan. He didn't want to deliberately disobey his father…he wasn't that stupid. Jace took the dagger hilt first and looked down at it. Valentine watched him with a cold stare.

"Now I want you to take that blade that you hold," he said gently, almost as if he were reading Jace a lullaby, "And kill Jonathan's horse with it." Horror shattered through Jace, more sharp than jagged glass, and he stared up at his father with terrified eyes.

"You can't be serious." his voice came out as a whisper.

"Do I look serious?"

Silence resounded throughout the barn. Jace could only hear the frantic pounding of his heart. _This can't be happening…_Jace begged himself to wake up. A small gasp escaped his lips as he realized there was no easy way out of this situation. Valentine watched his son's face with a malicious look on his own. "Either you put the beast down…or I will."

Jace's hand tightened on the hilt of the dagger and tears blurred his vision. He would have to do it. There was no way that he would let that man take her life. At least if he did it…it would be quick and she wouldn't be frightened because…she trusted him.

"I'm waiting, little angel boy. Make your choice." Valentine crossed his arms and a truly evil grin split his face as he saw Jace's eyes becoming glassy with his unshed tears.

"I hate you." Jace said through his teeth, anger making his eyes darken like a demon's. Before his father could reply, Jace spun around and strode to the gate before his fleeting courage abandoned him. He stuck the blade between his teeth and climbed over, praying to the Angel that Jonathan's horse wouldn't run from him so he could get it over with quickly.

She looked up at him cautiously as he approached, her eyes strangely blank. Jace put his hand on her face and tried to emit soothing feelings. He gripped the blade in his left hand and raised it, feeling the muscles in his bicep tightening. Jace took a silent breath and refused to think about the horrible pain she was about to feel at the hands of the boy she had made the grave mistake of trusting.

After she had stopped kicking her legs and her voice was gone along with her life, Jace pulled the blade out of the black mare's neck. He stood gracefully, his face blank and his eyes unblinking, and brushed the dirt from the knees of his jeans. He felt numb with shock. Somehow he managed to climb back over the gate without falling. Valentine moved out of his way, his face unreadable.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Jace." he said proudly. Jace gripped the handle of the bloody dagger tighter, and turned to look at him. He had difficulty stopping the image of himself running at his father and slitting his throat with it. Valentine seemed to sense that Jace wanted to do exactly that because he laughed. "Don't even think about it. It would only end badly for you." he said coldly, his eyes glimmering with challenge. Jace lowered the blade, feeling sick.

"So did I pass your test, Father?" Jace asked bitterly before turning and walking out of the barn, a tear finally rolling down his bruised cheek. Valentine stared after him while clasping his hands behind his back.

"Yes. You did." Valentine said to the empty room.

Jace made it all the way to the side of the house before throwing up. He was surprised he had made it that far. He turned on the hose that was coiled like a venomous green snake against the house and rinsed his mouth out, trying to shake off the crushing self hatred that made him want to puke again. While the hose was on, Jace rinsed the blood of the blade, watching as the water ran red, then pink, and then clear again. He slid the clean blade on the thigh of his jeans to dry it before slipping it into his belt. Then he filled up his cupped hands with water and splashed his face.

Not feeling any better, Jace turned off the water and entered the large house. No lights were on but Jace could see just fine. He made his way down the hall to the stairs of his room, wanting nothing more than to sleep for a few months.

He passed the study and saw that a fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace. Jace frowned and pushed the door open. He saw Jonathan sitting on a stool at the bar, a crystal cup in his hand and a bottle of scotch in front of him.

"Go away." Jonathan said without looking up, while swirling the liquor around in the glass before drinking it with a neat flick of his wrist.

"Gladly." Jace said before turning to leave.

"No wait…" Jace turned at the waist to glance back at his brother. Jonathan reached under the bar and pulled out another crystal shot glass. "Come have a drink with me, little brother." Jace frowned but entered the room, too curious to leave. "And shut the door too. Father would be pissed if he saw us drinking his good scotch." Jace pushed the door closed and walked to the other side of the bar, facing Jonathan.

"Are you drunk?" he asked roughly. Jonathan finally looked up at him, a crooked grin making his face look…nice for once. Jonathan laughed.

"No. Not yet. But I'm working on it." He poured more alcohol into his class and filled up Jace's as well. He set the bottle down on the bar too hard, making the scotch slosh up out the top. Jonathan frowned at it. Jace raised his eyebrows.

"You sure you're not drunk?" Jace asked mockingly. Jonathan chuckled and raised his glass.

"I'm positive. Now stop talking and drink." Jace shook his head but raised his shot glass, humoring him.

"What should we drink to?" he asked. Jonathan's eyes glinted in the fire light and his usual wicked grin replaced the sincere one.

"Let's drink to Father." Jonathan said with a sinister tone. Jace raised his eyebrows again.

"Mm. Let's not." Jace said bitterly. Jonathan studied him over his raised glass.

"Alright then. What shall we drink to, Little Angel boy?"

"Let's drink to drinking." Jace said. Jonathan's face cracked into his natural smile, the one he tried to never let people see. He clinked his glass to Jace's.

"Well said." Jonathan shot his drink but kept his eyes on Jace. Jace swirled his scotch expertly.

"You sure this isn't poisoned?" Jonathan's eyes sparkled as he shrugged.

"Guess you'll never know until you drink it." Jace raised the glass to his lips and drank it, flipping his wrist elegantly without taking his eyes of his brother's. Jonathan's smile grew wider. Jace set his glass down and leaned his elbows onto the bar, feeling the alcohol warming his stomach.

"Well at least I know better then to ask you for the antidote." he said clearly with his own wicked grin. Jonathan shook his head, fighting the smile.

"You always were a smart ass."

He filled up their glasses again and they drank in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire. Jace was stunned. Jonathan was actually being civil with him…_nice _even. Maybe he did poison the scotch…

"So…what's up with you Jonathan?" Jace asked, no longer able to stand being so curious. "I mean why are you being so friendly to me. It's really out of character for you." Jonathan raised his glass to his lips.

"Geez. Can't a guy have a drink with his little brother once in awhile without raising all kinds of suspicion?" he asked with an overly hurt tone. Jace shook his head.

"Not when that guy is always trying to kill said brother."

Jonathan smirked again and shot his drink.

"Fine. If you must know…I'm being nice to you because I'm drinking… and I'm drinking because I'm depressed." Jace frowned. This was so not the answer he had been expecting. He didn't know if Jonathan was just messing with him or if something was really bothering him. He wasn't prepared to handle comforting his homicidal brother and he couldn't shake the feeling of being played. Games were Jonathan's favorite hobby and Jace was always his favorite target.

"Well bottle it up like you usually do. Cause we all know that works so well." Jace said coldly. Jonathan scoffed.

"Well that wasn't very compassionate of you. I thought you were the one who handled emotions so well and blah blah blah." Jace rolled his eyes and poured them two more drinks. The bottle was almost empty.

"Fine, I'll bite: why are you depressed." Jonathan's face slipped into a frown. He stared down at his hands clenched around his glass. It was a long time before he answered.

"I killed someone tonight."

Jace swore Jonathan could hear the pounding of his heart over the soothing sounds of the fire because it seemed like he was tapping his thumb against his glass in rhythm with his pulse.

"What did you just say?" Jace whispered. Jonathan's dark eyes flicked up to Jace's and his face managed to look humorous even though he wasn't smiling.

"You heard me." Jonathan reached out and emptied the bottle of scotch into Jace's glass. "Drink up, little brother."


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan leaned forward and rested his elbows on the bar with the air of someone eternally damned but completely okay with it. He continued to stare at Jace with that strange, humorous gaze as he ran his index finger lightly around the rim of his shot glass. Jace finally recovered.

"I really don't know why I'm surprised." he said as he reached out and took his shot off the table. He drank it the same way he always drank shots, only this time it actually seemed to effect him. He felt the liquor burn down his throat even though he was still too numb to taste it. The heat in his stomach now felt too hot and Jace couldn't stop the goose bumps from rising up on his arms. Jonathan seemed to notice his reaction and tilted his head to the side like an amused puppy, which far from making him look adorable, made him appear even more sinister.

"Something wrong, little brother?" Jonathan asked with a small smile playing across his mouth. Jace knew that Jonathan could sense that he was uncomfortable with his confession and that he was enjoying it. Jace dropped his glass down onto the table top and shook his head.

"Nope. Not at all." he looked up at Jonathan and their eyes locked; black burning into gold. "And since we're pretending we can stand each other, why don't we have a little brotherly chat and you can tell me all about that poor innocent person that you killed." The fire seemed to leave Jonathan's eyes and his face became blank and unreadable.

"If you insist." Jonathan looked away from Jace and paused. "It happened in the city." Jace's eyes widened.

"You went to the city for the first time and ended up killing someone?" Jonathan grinned.

"Who said it was my first time in Alicante? Just because you're a little angel boy and you always listen to Daddy when he says stay home _all the time_ doesn't mean that I do." he said with a condescending tone. Jace clenched his jaw angrily.

"How did you even get there? He keeps the horses padlocked."

"Don't worry about it." Jace rolled his eyes. "So then what happened?" he asked.

Jonathan narrowed his eyes at Jace, like he was considering how much he should tell him. Then he pushed away from the bar and walked slowly to the expensive winged armchair that sat near the front of fireplace. He leaned his elbows on its back and gazed into the fire meditatively for a few seconds. Jace walked around the bar and stopped a few feet away from him with his arms crossed, waiting.

"Can you keep a secret?" Jace gave him a look.

"Who would I tell?" he asked bitterly.

"Father of course." Jace thought for a moment. So now Jonathan was keeping things from Valentine? That was unexpected.

"Yeah, I can keep a secret."

Jonathan turned his head and looked at him. In that moment, the firelight caught his eyes and made them glint sinisterly, making him appear as though there was an inferno raging inside of him.

"I enjoyed it."

Jace suppressed a shudder. He would not let the other boy know how much he disturbed him. He kept his face blank and impassive.

"That's not surprising to me. And really, it probably wouldn't be bad if Father found out because we both know he enjoys it too. This could be just one more thing that you two have in common." Jonathan straightened up and turned towards Jace with a patronizing smile.

"Well, well, well. Did I just hear a hint of jealousy?" Jace raised an eyebrow apathetically.

"And what would I have to be jealous of Jonathan? You?" Jace laughed and shook his head. "No, sorry. Jealousy isn't an emotion that I'm well acquainted with. That's always been your department." Jonathan stared at him, his rising anger darkening his eyes to abyss-like blackness. He smiled charmingly as he took a few slow steps towards Jace.

"Oh, I'm sure you know what jealousy feels like, little brother. Just as you know what it feels like to be the one that Father wishes was better." Jace rolled his eyes.

"I'm not you. I don't really care what he thinks of me. And, unlike you, I don't crave, need, and want his approval." Jonathan smiled coldly and his voice lowered so it was soft and soothing.

"You're going to stand there and tell me that you've never went out of your way to stand out to him? You've never pushed yourself during training to make him proud and you've never wanted him to tell you that you were good enough? I know you, little angel boy. You crave acceptance like oxygen. You may act tough but I can see through you, and so can he. You wear your heart on your sleeve, Jace, just begging for love and Father and I both know it will destroy you." he smiled with ice in his eyes. "And we just can't wait for it to happen. Believe me." It was in these moments, that Jace remembered why he hated his brother. However, he smiled arrogantly.

"Okay Jonathan. You win. You get to be Daddy's little girl. I hope it's everything you dreamed it would be." Jace turned away and started to the door. "But when he gets tired of you and puts you down like the rabid dog that you are, he's going to realize that he made the wrong choice. He's going to realize that he picked the wrong son. And even though _you _act all tough, because it's how he taught us to be, you know deep down that I'm right. You know deep down, in that fucked up thing you call a soul, that I'm right and that I'm better than you. And I'm always going to be better than you in every way that truely matters to you...and to him."

Jace heard a soft sound behind him and spun around just in time to see Jonathan as he slammed him backwards into the wall. Jace's head cracked back into the wall hard enough to make him see black spots. He felt one of Jonathan's hands grab the front of his shirt and the other slide down his hip to his belt. Jace's eyes flew open and he grabbed for it but he was a breath too late; Jonathan already had the dagger's edge pressed against his throat. Jonathan chuckled softly.

"Ah, Jace. Your going to be almost as easy to kill as that pathetic excuse for a Shadowhunter, Alec Lightwood."


	6. Chapter 6

Jace stared at Jonathan through hooded eyes while quickly running through names in his head. Nope, had never heard of an Alec Lightwood. And now thanks to his brother, he would never meet him either, whoever he was.

"So that's who you killed huh?" Jace leaned his head back against the wall gently, fighting the nausea that was making his vision waver and distort. "What did he do? Cut in front of you in line?" he asked with a grin. "Did he say that his toy truck was better than yours?" As Jace laughed, Jonathan clenched his teeth in anger before pushing the blade harder against his jugular.

"You just don't know when to shut up do you? You're in absolutely no position to be pissing me off right now." Jonathan murmured in a low voice. Jace looked back at him apathetically.

"What are you gunna do Jonathan? Kill me like you killed that guy? For all I know, you could be lying about offing this Alec Lightwood person. And anyways this could just be another one of your stupid games." Jonathan smiled slowly as he looked down into Jace's eyes.

"I'm telling the truth. I killed him." Jace stared back at him, his golden eyes hard with disbelief. Jonathan brought his lips to Jace's ear. "Do you wanna know how I did it?" he asked in a gentle voice, like he was on the verge of sharing a beautiful secret.

"No, not really." Jace replied stiffly.

Jonathan pushed his hips up against Jace's, pinning him back against the wall. Jace clenched his teeth against the powerful urge to shove him away and inhaled slowly to settle the adrenaline that was tightening his body in preparation for a fight. Jonathan gently ran the edge of the blade over and over the pounding pulse in Jace's throat as he spoke, as though intrigued by it.

"He wasn't supposed to have gotten away…no one's ever gotten away before." Jonathan said with glazed eyes. Jace frowned.

"What are you talking about? You killed him so how did he get away?" Jonathan looked back up at him, his eyes coming back into focus.

"He tried to fight me you know." Jonathan laughed, "The poor idiot actually thought he had a chance against me…he was so surprised." Jace felt a swell of sympathy inside him for this Alec Lightwood who had made the grave mistake of…being in the same city as Jonathan Morgenstern. His brother looked him in the eyes, his sick humor still lighting them up and making them glint like onyx.

Jonathan slowly dragged the dagger down Jace's chest. "Father always said to take your time when doing things that you enjoy…and Mr. Alec took quite a long time to die because I just couldn't help myself….you know how I like to play with things. First I cut him here." Jace felt the blade slice a cut into his lower stomach. He looked down and saw the wound bleeding slow and purposefully. "Don't move little Angel boy; I want to show you how I killed my first enemy. Think of it as…a brotherly bonding moment as I share with you my experience." Jonathan said with a sinister smile. Jace stared at him, rage making his hands shake.

"Dick. I liked this shirt."

Before Jonathan could make another move, Jace reached out and grabbed the wrist that held the dagger and twisted it hard. He felt a small pop under his hand and Jonathan gasped in pain and dropped the knife. Jace shoved Jonathan backwards away from him before ducking down and grabbing it up off the ground with a speed that would have a mundane running for a priest. Jonathan tightly held his broken wrist and looked at him furiously. Jace raised the dagger, wet with his blood, and circled around Jonathan to the door.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I've sure had enough brotherly bonding for one night…so good luck with the whole depression thing and dealing with being a murderer. Know that I say this with all sincerity; I hope it eats away at you."

Jonathan stared at him without blinking as Jace backed away out of the room.

Jace strode down the hall, looking over his shoulder once to see if Jonathan decided he wanted to keep fighting and follow him; he hadn't. He bypassed his room and instead headed to the third floor bathroom. He shut the door behind him before wiping blood off the dagger onto a towel. That was the second time he had had to clean blood off this blade tonight. He slipped it back into his belt before sliding up the window. He climbed out agilely, balancing on the narrow ledge on the outside before sliding down the steep roof to the edge of the house, three stories from the ground. Jace stared off towards Alicante, his eyes gazing longingly at the demon towers and the soft glow that the witch light street lamps gave off. He stretched out his hand and imagined that he could feel the city lights on his fingertips.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jace saw a light. He turned his head towards the barn, letting his arm fall back down to his side. There was someone in the loft. Jace frowned. His father wouldn't still be in there would he? And surely he wouldn't be up in the loft? The stable boys shouldn't be there this late…Curiosity burned within Jace and propelled him to step forward off the edge of the high roof. He descended as lightly as an angel, landing on the grass in a crouch. Then he took off towards the barn silently, blending in with the shadows and making no noise.

Jace slipped inside the barn and peered around the darkness, searching for movement. He crept forward, keeping pressed against the stalls and out of sight. A shuffling sound came from the loft; the person was still up there. Jace stalked over to the ladder and climbed up, his muscles tightening in preparation for whoever was up there. He emerged from the top of the ladder and saw the culprit. Jace pulled the dagger out of his belt and approached the boy, who had his back to Jace.

"You lost?" Jace asked quietly. The boy spun around, startled.

The stranger was a bit taller than Jace, though not as muscular in the upper body and he looked to be around the same age, if not a little older. He had messy black hair, smooth light skin, and deep blue eyes that at the moment were wide with shock at Jace's sudden appearance. The boy's hand flew to his belt but Jace advanced on him, the dagger raised to his throat.

"Don't." Jace said. "That's not a very good idea." The boy slowly lowered his hands; his eyes on Jace were very cautious. Jace walked around him, and the boy turned with him, not letting him get any closer. Satisfied that there was no one else in the loft with them, Jace glanced back at the intruder. "Who are you and what are you doing here? This isn't the kind of place to just go exploring in. The people who live here are dangerous." The boy raised his eyebrows and gestured at his wicked dagger.

"Well obviously." he said. Jace watched him as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "The Morgensterns live here. So you must be the other one. Jace." Jace narrowed his eyes. He really did not like the fact that this boy knew him whereas he was clueless to who he was dealing with. Who was he? Did he live in Alicante? And how did he know of him? The boy looked at Jace with those blue eyes, and Jace couldn't help but stare. Blue was a nice change from the black that he was so accustomed to. The blue eyes widened imploringly.

"Have you seen my sister? I'm afraid something happened to her here." Jace shook his head.

"Whoa whoa whoa. You still haven't answered any of my questions so why would I answer any of yours? Who are you and why are you playing around in my barn's loft?"

The boy rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't playing. I'm looking for my sister."

"And why would she be in my barn?" The boy sighed and looked away.

"Because she heard about what happened to me and came to find the person responsible. She's ruthless like that." Jace frowned.

"I literally have no clue what you're talking about. I think you have the wrong house or something. You should probably go before my father finds you." The boy shook his head.

"No way. I'm not leaving until I find my sister." Jace clenched his teeth and tried to calm his rising anger. His emotions were on the very edge from all that had happened today and he seemed to be loosing the iron control he usually had over them.

"You wanna stay here so he can find you? Because I can promise you that he won't be _nearly_ as nice as I'm being…" The boy scoffed.

"This is you being nice?" Jace smiled with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you should see me on a bad hair day. I'm just downright nasty." he said in a low voice.

The other boy blushed gently, which baffled Jace. However, it seemed that he got the message: Jace was no one to mess with, and that this was, in fact, not the meanest he could be. "And I haven't seen your sister. But let me tell you, if she does get found by my brother, it won't really matter how ruthless you think she is."

Just then a golden wire whipped around his left wrist and pulled tight with a snap. He was yanked around by his arm to face a girl with long black hair and even longer legs. Jace gasped as the girl pulled on her whip, tightening it even more around his wrist. She smiled with a gleam in her eyes as she pulled him forward again, making him drop the dagger to the floor.

"Well how ruthless do _you _think I am, big boy?" she asked. Jace shook his head, impressed with her looks but already convinced she wasn't too smart.

"Not nearly ruthless enough." Jace said as he grabbed the whip and pulled her towards him. He plucked a knife out of the sheath at her thigh and cut the whip wrapped around his wrist. Blood ran down his hand from the gash the whip had made but he ignored it as he spun away from the girl as she advanced on him, swinging the remains of her whip at him with ferocity. Jace raised the knife.

"Enough! Don't move."

Jace looked up and saw the boy suddenly had a bow and arrow aimed at him. He must have had it hidden in a bale of hay because Jace hadn't seen it before when he was looking for others in the loft. The boy's hands were steady and he stared at Jace without blinking, the arrow's point aimed directly at his heart.

"Drop it." the boy said. Jace's eyes sparkled.

"You should know that I rarely do as I'm told." he said as he drew his arm back to throw it. The boy shot the arrow like Jace knew he would. Jace spun out of its path and ripped the bow out of his hands. The boy swung at Jace, who blocked him with one hand before kicking him back against the barn wall. Jace raised the knife to him and turned around to see the girl coming up behind him with a crowbar.

"Put it down or I'll kill him." Jace said. She seemed to snarl back at him.

"I have a better idea: let's me and you have another go so I can teach you a lesson." Jace laughed arrogantly.

"Oh yeah? And what lesson could _you_ possibly teach _me_?" Her eyes darkened and she took a few steps closer, looking as fierce as a lioness.

"Why it's a bad idea to screw with the Lightwoods, Jonathan Morgenstern."


	7. Chapter 7

Jace raised his eyebrows at her.

"Wow. I can't even begin to explain to you how much that simple statement offends the very essence of my being, sweetheart."

However, before Jace could say anything else, the girl advanced on him, swinging the crowbar in a manner that resembled a vengeful angel armed with a sword of justice. Jace ducked the crowbar, dropped to the ground, and swept the girl's legs out from underneath her with one of his own. The crowbar flew out of her hand and hit the opposite wall as the girl hit the ground with a surprised gasp.

Suddenly, as Jace stood up again, his eyes on the dazed girl, the boy ran at him and slammed into him with bruising force. They crashed to the floor of the loft and the boy rolled on top of Jace, trying to pry the knife out of his fist with both hands. Jace yanked the knife away, accidentally slashing the blade across the boy's forearm. The boy yelled out in pain, blood streaming down his arm.

"Alec!" the girl yelled. She rolled to her feet and ran to where the boys were struggling, perilously close to the edge of the loft. Jace rolled them so that he was on top, raising the dagger high as he did so. Confusion crossed his face as he stared down at the boy, who was eying the knife warily.

"Alec? Alec Lightwood? But…that's impossible.." The boy stared up at him, his blue eyes very bright.

"Your family tries and tries but they can't seem to get rid of me." he said.

Just then, the girl ran up behind him, crowbar in hand. Alec looked up, eyes wide.

"Izzy, no!"

Jace stood up and spun around as Isabelle hit him hard with the crowbar. Jace stumbled to the side, tripping over Alec's body before teetering on the edge of the loft. Alec scrambled up, reaching for him desperately; but it was too late. Jace fell over the edge, his body limp with unconsciousness.

Alec cringed when he heard the sound of Jace hitting the ground, or rather hitting a bunch of wooden crates and then the ground. He sat back on his heels with a sigh, then turned to look at his sister. She was peering over the edge of the loft, the crowbar resting on her shoulder like a baseball bat, with a cocky grin pulling up the corner of her mouth.

"That'll teach him. Just wait till he wakes up-"

"Izzy."

"Then I'll really show him. He's going to regret the day-"

"Isabelle!"

She stopped and looked down at him.

"What?" Alec shook his head.

"That wasn't Jonathan." Isabelle looked confused.

"What do you mean? This is the house you were being kept at right?"

"Yes but-"

"And you said the little bastard that tried to kill you was Valentine's son right? We're just lucky Magnus was around-"

"Yes but Izzy, Valentine has two sons. That's what I was trying to tell you. You just knocked out the good one." Isabelle peered over the edge of the loft with a frown, the crowbar still perched on her shoulder.

"Nobody tells me anything."

Jace woke to a throbbing at the back of his head and annoying whispers that sounded like an argument. Keeping his eyes closed, he strained his ears and listened.

"No, this isn't safe Alec. We should just get out of here while he's still out of it."

"Don't you think we owe it to him to explain what's been going on?"

"No! If he wants to know he can ask his crazy, homicidal family and they can tell him."

"Oh, and you really think they'll say anything if he asks? Isabelle, I doubt they would do anything except get really mad. You've heard the stories about Valentine…imagine having that man as _your _father."

Jace clenched his fists. What were they talking about?

"Obviously he's tough enough to deal with it. If you hadn't distracted him, Alec, I don't know if I would've been able to hit him with that crowbar. You saw the way he fights, how fast he is…that's not normal for even a Shadowhunter. There's something different about him…and that brother of his. I say we leave now before he wakes up and decides to tell his father that we're here. Do you wanna be around if he decides to just say 'to hell with it' and kill us himself, I mean his brother already tried it with you so I doubt he's much diff-" Isabelle broke off when she looked over and saw that Jace was awake and staring at her. Alec, who had been facing away from her with his hands on his hips turned and looked, and then, seeing Jace, raised his eyebrows. Jace sat up.

"Oh go ahead. Don't stop on my account." Alec threw his sister a look before approaching Jace, who fixed his dark gaze on him.

"Sorry…she's not very tactful." Alec said to Jace. Isabelle sneered at him.

"Oh whatever. I'm honest. I can't help if people don't like it."

Alec sat on the bales of hay that they had put Jace on. He looked at the blonde boy, his eyes full of curiosity.

"How's your head? The iratze should have helped." Jace looked down at his forearm at the swirling black lines that had not yet begun to fade.

"My head's just fine." he said dully as he looked over at Isabelle, who was examining her nails. "Thanks for that by the way." She looked up at him.

"You were going to hurt my brother. What would you have done in my situation?"

Jace laughed humorlessly.

"What would I have done?" Jace stood up and ambled away towards the row of horse stalls, knowing that their eyes were on him, captivated by the tone of his voice as well as the easy way in which he moved, just as he himself had so often been captivated by his own father when he was very young. Looking back, it seemed like another lifetime entirely to Jace. "That's real easy. If it were my brother…I probably would've handed you a bigger knife."

Alec laughed; which surprised Jace. He had expected to shock them.

"Well I don't blame you. Anybody with a brother like that must feel the same way."

Jace turned around, his eyes glittering. The smile slowly faded from Alec's features.

"Why are you here?" Jace asked as he crossed his arms, his golden eyes bright and intense. "Or I should say, why are you _still _here? You found your sister. Great. Now I really think you should leave before you don't have the option of leaving." Isabelle narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you threatening us, Morgenstern?" she asked quietly. Jace turned to her and smiled lazily.

"Oh no, Princess, you'd know if I was. Trust me." he looked back at Alec. "I'm not kidding though. You should really leave. You see, my father has this…ability, I guess you could call it, of showing up when you least want him to. And unless you want to be formally introduced…I suggest you get lost. Now." Alec looked over at Isabelle. She raised her eyebrows.

"I've been wanting to leave for ten minutes now. Let's go." Alec stood and looked at Jace, those blue eyes that so intrigued him dark with confusion.

"But don't you want to know what's been going on?"

Jace looked at Alec. He had always wanted a brother. Which was absurd because he already had one. He guessed what he meant was…he had always wanted a better brother. One that didn't despise him for reasons Jace didn't really understand. There was the jealousy, he suspected…the times were it seemed like Valentine really did prefer Jace to Jonathan. However, deep down, Jace knew that his father did not love him. At least not the way that a normal father would. At the very most, he thought that his father _valued_ him. He valued him like he would a possession, because that's really all that he and Jonathan were to him; his possessions. But more importantly, Jace believed that his father valued him as his little soldier, obedient to his every commands.

With every passing day, Jace swore he could feel the bonds around his throat tightening, suffocating the life from him as he fought to release them and only succeeding in making them tighter. It was like being contained in a collar and his father was the one holding the leash; yanking it back and choking him when he didn't listen or started to have a mind of his own. At that moment, Jace wanted nothing more than to rip away all the bonds his father had placed on him and find a new family... for what could possibly enrage his father more?

Jace smiled, and Alec, seeing him smiling, grinned as well. "What's so funny?"

Jace looked up at him, and all his thoughts of getting away seemed to vanish as he came back to reality. What had he been thinking? Of course he couldn't get another family. He was Jace Morgenstern…

He focused on Alec, making his golden eyes hard and his voice emotionless, knowing that the other boy would believe him because he was just that good at deception.

"No. I don't want to know what's been going on. And I don't know if you're slow or what but you must really not get what my father is capable of because you're still here, acting like you and I are going to be BFFs."

Alec's face fell and the sight of it only made Jace's eyes grow even colder. Isabelle gave Jace an icy look of her own before taking her brother's arm and hurrying them out the barn door.

"Come on Alec. It's not your fault he doesn't want our help. I guess I was right though: he is like his family."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks again for all the comments and adding my story to your favorites. You guys make my day with that =) Hope you all keep R&R with your comments and whatnot, I love to hear everything you guys have to say so keep it up! **

***Everybody knows I'm not CC, how cool would that be though right? lol anyways all characters n story info belongs to her brilliant self***

CHAPTER EIGHT

"_Close your eyes, Jace. Pain is only what you allow it to be."_

His father had said the words to him so long ago, back when he was too young to even receive Marks. That hadn't stopped Valentine though; he believed introducing his children to the burn of the stele early would give them an advantage, when really, all it had given them was pain and nightmares.

And Jace could remember the nightmares vividly even now. He remembered the first one, the worst, the one that had made him shy away from the touch of the stele for a long time after that.

In the dream, he had been lying in his bed, eight years old as he was in life, with the brand new, burning Mark on the back of his hand. He had been trying to sleep when the burning had become too much to handle. Eight year old dream Jace sat up in bed and looked at his hand, only to find that the rune of the eye was now an actual eye, poking grotesquely out the back of his hand. Jace gasped and the green human eye blinked before swirling to look up at the ceiling. There was an odd, whiny, scratching noise coming from above him and Jace looked up slowly.

Above his bed there was a black shape. As Jace squinted to look at it, the shape turned its head and looked down at him. Jace's heart raced as he realized it was a demon. He reached out in the darkness for the knife that was on the bedside table, but the demon laughed; a slow, rasping, and unnatural sound that froze Jace inside his body. He struggled against himself but couldn't move. What kind of demon could lock you inside your own body? He wondered as he stared up at the figure on his ceiling, who had turned its head away from him and was again making the odd high pitched scratching noises that had alerted Jace to its presence.

Jace squinted into the darkness and made out the shape of another figure, one that had been beautiful once but was now ravaged. Its divine face was darkened with black burns, its wings were now nothing but bones and dried arteries. Jace's heart beat painfully as he realized what the demon was doing. He saw the glint of silver as it plunged Jace's knife from his bedside table into the angel's chest and heard the whiny scratching of the blade as it scraped against the angel's bones.

Just when Jace swore he could take no more of the sound, the demon turned to look down at him. Jace's scream died in his throat. It wore his father's face. The demon pulled the blade out of the angel's chest and a torrent of blood rained down on Jace. His body became free again as the demon with his father's face laughed wildly.

Jace could feel the hot, sticky blood on him; could feel it matting in his hair, on his face, running down his neck and back. He was suddenly drowning in it.

With a gasp, Jace had woken up, covered in sweat and more afraid than he had ever been in his life. The dream had felt so real that he was certain he would look up and find the demon with his father's face still crouched on his ceiling.

And now, nine years later, sitting in his father's study about to get more Marks from the same man who had caused the nightmare in the first place, Jace couldn't help but wonder what kind of morbid dreams Jonathan had had when Valentine first Marked him when he wasn't old enough.

Valentine approached him with his stele and Jace held out his bare forearms, trying not to imagine the sick images his brother's subconscious could come up with, even at the age of eight.

Valentine took his son's right wrist and began drawing a rune that gave him extra strength with handling weapons, his mind not really on the upcoming training session with Jace but on the Circle meeting that had just ended. The rumors were that the Lightwoods were going to be staying in Alicante longer than they had originally planned. Perhaps now was the time to act…

Jace clenched his teeth and fought to keep his arm still. His father had suddenly started drawing a rune of speed with increased pressure. He glanced up at Valentine's face and saw that he appeared to be absorbed in drawing the rune, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. As the stele burned down his wrist, Jace's bicep tightened against his control. He hoped his father would have missed it. For once, it appeared Valentine had too much on his mind to notice things to reprimand Jace about.

Jace breathed a silent sigh of relief when Valentine had finished Marking him. He leaned back in the uncomfortable, high backed wooden arm chair that he sat in and looked down at his newly applied Marks, while trying to ignore the smell of burnt flesh that always lingered in the air after a stele had been used.

"You've been keeping something from me, Jace." Valentine said from behind him. Jace glanced up from his Marks, his pulse picking up.

"I have?" he asked in a bored voice.

Valentine walked around the chair slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped in front of Jace and stared down at him, rolling the stele between his fingers like a cigar. His black eyes bore into Jace's and not for the first time, Jace was thankful that he couldn't read minds because he was thinking of all of the things he did not want his father to know; the most imperative one being that the Lightwoods had been in the barn the other night. However, Valentine hadn't needed the ability to read minds any of the other times he had caught his sons lying. This thought did less than nothing to comfort Jace.

"Do you want to know how I know you're keeping something from me?" Jace stayed silent, aware that he could hear his heart pounding against his ribs. He wondered if Valentine could hear it too. Valentine smirked down at him, his eyes glittering maliciously. "You're too quiet. You _always_ have something to say so I know that when you don't have anything to say…you're feeling guilty about something."

"How do you know I'm not just thinking of something to say?" Jace asked reflexively. Valentine's eyes flashed dangerously as Jace's eyes slipped closed for a second at his stupidity. _By the Angel…me and my smart mouth…_

Valentine leaned forward and placed his hands on the arms of Jace's chair, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he did. Jace leaned his head against the back of the chair because it was the farthest he could be from those pit-like black eyes that he did not want to meet with his own.

Valentine tilted his head to the side a little, his jaw clenched, and observed his son's blank face. Jace was very good at keeping the emotions he was feeling out of his expression. His eyes, however, were a different story. Valentine's lips curved into a small smile.

"Look at me."

Valentine saw his youngest son's chest rise and fall a bit faster at his demand. Jace blinked but did not raise his eyes to his father's face, knowing what Valentine would see if he did. Valentine's hands clenched the arms of the chair angrily, making the old wood groan in the silence of the room. Jace tensed subtly, expecting to feel his father's hand crack across his face at any moment. "I said," Valentine spoke quietly, betraying how angry he really was that Jace stubbornly wasn't listening to him, "Look at me."

Jace stared at the black Marks that swirled along the pale skin of his forearm and wondered idly if his father had accidentally marked him with a rune of revolt, if such a rune even existed.

With a movement so quick it appeared nearly invisible to Jace, Valentine reached out, grabbed Jace's chin tightly in his strong hand, and forced his face up. Jace flinched under his father's strong grip and glared up at him, his eyes dark with resentment. Valentine sneered down at him, feeling his fingers tightening even more because the guilty look he knew had been in his son's eyes moments before was replaced with one of anger. Just then, Jonathan entered the room carrying two seraph blades.

"Father, where do you want me to put these…?" his question trailed off as he saw Valentine leaning into Jace's chair, angrily grasping his chin with a look of rage on his face. Valentine and Jace both glanced over at the doorway and Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "Uh, I can come back." He started to back out of the door when Valentine straightened up and released Jace's face.

"No, it's fine Jonathan. Set them on the desk." Valentine then turned to Jace and gave him a look that said 'don't move' before he turned and went to the bookshelf at the end of the room.

Jonathan walked around Valentine's desk and set the blades down on them before looking up and meeting Jace's eyes. He smirked at him before raising an eyebrow in a gesture that asked, 'What was that about? He looked really mad.' Jace rolled his eyes and looked away as Valentine walked back towards the desk. "Thank you, Jonathan you can go." Jonathan nodded and turned to leave, giving Jace a 'you're so dead' grin before he was gone.

Valentine turned back to Jace, who couldn't help but wonder if his darling big brother was right.

"Hold out your arm." Jace did, wondering why he followed this order and not the previous one.

Valentine took his left arm and placed the tip of the stele to his wrist. Jace clenched his right fist tight against the pain, his nails digging into his palm as he watched his father draw a rune he had never seen before that wrapped around his wrist like a cuff. When he was finished, Valentine released his arm. Jace looked down at the unfamiliar rune, still trying to find a meaning for it.

"What is this?" Valentine slipped the stele into his belt and turned away to the seraph blades on his desk.

"It's a binding rune. It binds you to the person who applied it." Jace felt like his chest was slowly collapsing, like the air was being sucked out of it and his ribs were breaking and caving in on his organs. He looked up the back of his father's white blonde head in horror.

"Why? Why would you do this to me?" he breathed. Valentine turned around and leaned back against the desk, a cruel smile lighting his handsome face.

"Ah Jace, that hurts my feelings." Jace's face darkened as the horror bloomed slowly into anger.

"What feelings? To even have feelings, one needs to be capable of human emotions."

Valentine's eyes glittered forebodingly as the smile stayed on his lips.

"Watch yourself boy." he said softly. "You'd be an idiot if you thought that the very worst punishment I could give you was a little binding rune…" Jace bit his tongue and Valentine turned away to the blades again. "And not that I need to explain myself to a child, but I put it on you because as of right now, I fear that you're a flight risk. Your training is far too important for me to let something like your inflated sense of your own rebelliousness cancel even one session of it. No…your training will continue in light of your little, ah how should I describe it…stubborn temper tantrum? Yeah, that sums it up pretty accurately."

Jace, in his anger, exhaled a shaky breath and bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood. It worked though; he remained quiet. Valentine picked up the seraph blades before turning back to Jace. "Get up. The warlock will be waiting to summon the demons and we've already wasted enough time thanks to your childishness."

Jace slid up out of his chair and caught the blades as Valentine threw them at him. He slipped them into his belt and watched as Valentine walked around his desk and opened the door behind it. The Portal shimmered with faceted brightness and Jace cast his eyes away from it as he walked around his father's desk. Just as he was about to step through it, Valentine's hand tightly squeezed his shoulder, stopping him. Jace glanced up at his father, his mind already on his upcoming session, his body already anxious to begin. Valentine looked at him, the Portal's light dancing across his face.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking that I've forgotten that you're keeping something from me. You see, secrets have a way of making the soul heavier and heavier. And before long, you'll be the one to tell me what it is Jace, all on your own, because if you don't… it's just going to keep crushing you inside until you wish you had never kept it from me in the first place."

Before Jace could really register what he had meant by that, Valentine pushed him through the Portal and all thoughts whirled from his mind quicker than the beat of a falling angel's wings.


	9. Chapter 9

Jace bent his knees slightly as his feet hit the forest floor, the impact making the blades at his waist bump together and clink like delicate sounding wind chimes. He looked over his shoulder at his father, who was straightening the cuffs of his jacket with a look of cold superiority on his face. Jace ignored the annoyance that stung at him; it would be better if he just kind of faded into the background while his father talked to the warlock.

Valentine strode past his son to the warlock's house and knocked loudly on the wooden door. Jace followed behind him, schooling his expression into a stone like indifference.

The door opened a second later to reveal a stumped little man with graying hair and wide yellow eyes.

"Ah, Master Morgenstern! I was worried something had happened that would cause today's session to be cancelled." Valentine looked down at the warlock, and Jace could see the subtle distaste that tightened his mouth as he spoke to the Downworlder.

"Of course not. We just had a little…" he looked over at Jace with cold eyes, "Delay." Jace looked back at his father, meeting his cold gaze without fear.

Out the corner of his eye, Jace saw the warlock shiver slightly, as if relieved that Valentine was not looking at him like that. Valentine narrowed his eyes in amusement and turned back to him. "I'm sure you understand Feltman. Boys can be difficult." The warlock nodded eagerly.

"Why yes, Master Morgenstern, why I remember…" Jace tuned out as the warlock led them through his small cabin and out into the back field, where a large black pentagram was burned into the ground.

Jace stopped and watched as the warlock began setting up his summoning spell, wondering why he suddenly had such a horrified look on his face.

"…because cutting of their heads with an angelic blade is the only real way to put them down. Now if you want to have some fun with the fang, get them to talk, or even just put them in their place, you can always submerge them in holy water. Of course that does take longer and it requires some patience."

"What do you mean, 'their place?'" the warlock asked with a certain stiffness. Jace groaned inwardly. Valentine smiled.

"Their place below Shadowhunters of course. Vampires need to learn where they stand…as do all the degenerate races." Jace's eyes volleyed back to the warlock and he prayed that the old fool would have enough self preservation left in him to remain silent. _Shut up shut up shut up shut up….._

"'Degenerate races'? Do you mean all Downworlders? If you do, I'm afraid I find that incredibly offensive." _Oh you idiot…_

Valentine's eyes glittered maliciously and his voice dropped to the dangerous tone that Jace was more familiar with than his own reflection.

"Yes. I do in fact mean all Downworlders. Your rightful place is beneath the whims and feet of Shadowhunters. And it's my belief that any Downworlder who cannot remember their place should be put down because they are as good as rabid. Isn't that right, Jace?" The warlock turned to look at him, his face lined with horror and fear.

"Yes, Father. You're absolutely right." Jace said tonelessly. The warlock sputtered and looked between the two of them, as if he couldn't decide which of them he was more afraid of.

Jace took pity on him and decided to take his father's attention off of him.

He took a few steps forward, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his seraph blade. Jace stared down at the warlock, who had stepped back away from him.

"I strongly suggest that you remember _your_ place before my father decides to…" he let his voice trail off before he smiled at him charmingly, "Cancel... our business transaction." The warlock visibly swallowed and backed away, mumbling something about 'devils with angel faces'.

Valentine chuckled and looked over at Jace, his eyes alight with pride and humor.

"You've become quite the little bully, Jace. I do believe you'll give him the most spectacular nightmares."

Jace cast his eyes down as he felt a pang of guilt run through him like a current. His father's pride was a strange and confusing concept to him. While he wanted to please Valentine, a bigger part of him wanted to disappoint him. And yet there was still that insistent small part that wanted his father's pride and seemed to grow like a virus every time he received it.

Jace absolutely loathed admitting it and would do whatever it took to change it…but Jonathan was right; he did want his father's acceptance, even though he knew it was tainted. He did want Valentine to be proud of him, and even as he got exactly what he wanted, he hated it.

The truth of it was staring him in the face: his father's paternal pride was poison, and like all the best poisons that made you feel good, it was addictive and a slow killer with the worst intent.

Jace raised his face and felt his eyes darken with the angst and anger that he felt.

"Oh well." he said to Valentine. "He was wasting my time. I could've killed three demons by now." Valentine smiled.

"Now now, Jace. No need to be modest. You could have killed five by now." he said arrogantly. Jace pulled a seraph blade out of his belt, named it, and stared at the angelic glow before flicking his eyes back to his father.

"Well why don't I go see if I can persuade our warlock to summon a bit faster? That way I can kill seven." Valentine chuckled as his eyes glittered blackly.

"And there's the ruthless killer that I raised, I was wondering when he'd come back." He placed his hand on the back of Jace's neck and pulled his ear towards him while staring at the warlock that had barely begun the summoning ritual. "Go get 'em."

After Jace had killed all the various demons Feltman had summoned for him, Valentine tossed the warlock a bag full of coins. He barely caught it, fumbling with it as Valentine sneered.

"I trust next time our transaction will go a bit smoother?"

The warlock's yellow eyes darted over to Jace, who was cleaning ichor off one of his blades. All throughout Jace's session, the warlock seemed particularly jumpy, as if afraid Jace would go after him next. Feltman nodded as Jace looked up, sensing that he was being watched. The Downworlder hastily looked away and Valentine chuckled mockingly.

"You think _he's_ bad? Be grateful that I take my other son to a warlock with a bit more sense than you." Feltman stared up at him, his eyes wide.

"I'm sure you've fathered some magnificent and feared soldiers." Valentine smiled.

"You've no idea."

Jace's hand tightened, making the rag slip. He felt warmth on his palm and looked down at it. The cut on his palm sizzled and Jace inhaled a quiet breath through his teeth as he reached for his stele. His skin had begun to bubble gently around the cut before Jace had finished the iratze. Seraph blades did odd things to human skin.

Now that he had a chance to work off all of his pent up rage, hate, and frustration, Jace was feeling a bit more relaxed even though his muscles ached with exhaustion. However, he knew his serenity was fickle and likely to last only until his father was bored again. He still cherished his training sessions because it was the only time he could take his blades to the evil things of this world. It was really too bad that he couldn't take them to the evil things of his life…

Jace looked up when his father loudly snapped his fingers at him.

"Come, Jace."

Jace couldn't stop the glare that he threw at him in response. He stood up and walked over to his father, slipping his stele and blade back into his belt as he approached him.

"I'm not a dog." Valentine looked at him.

"Then why do I always feel the need to muzzle you?"

Jace saw the warlock returning with the spell book for their portal home and refrained from saying anything back, knowing that his father would be all the more furious with his disobedience while in the presence of someone he considered to be scum. Instead, he just gave him a baleful look and held his tongue.

Valentine, who had not missed Jace's struggle to keep quiet, smiled condescendingly and patted him hard on the cheek a couple times.

"That's a good boy. Already learning to watch that mouth aren't you?" Jace stared back at him with undisguised hate, which seemed to amuse Valentine greatly.

"Your portal is ready, Master Morgenstern."

Valentine slapped Jace on the back so hard he swore he felt his lungs rattle. "Now that's what I call speedy service. Good work son. Let's go home."

With a sick feeling in his stomach, Jace followed his father to the shimmering portal, wishing that it would take them anywhere but the fancy prison that he had to call home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Yay my tenth chapter! As a treat I made it long. Enjoy =) **

Jonathan leaned back in his father's arm chair, while flipping the butterfly knife in his hand open and closed so fast it appeared a metallic blur. He settled his cold gaze on the stable boy standing in front of the desk, and felt a muscle in his jaw twitch.

"So you're saying…" Jonathan said in a slow, arrogant drawl. "That you have _no idea _what happened to my horse?" The stable boy, who was around fourteen and also fae, stared down at his bare feet.

"No, sir. I don't know what happened to your horse." Jonathan flipped the knife open and pointed at the fairy boy with it.

"Could you, remind me again, what my father pays you for? What your job is?"

The boy looked up, his beautiful face emotionless. He stared at Jonathan with shockingly light green eyes before responding.

"Your father does not pay me, young Master Morgenstern." Jonathan laughed, his handsome face lighting up as he did so.

"Oh that's right. How could I forget? You're indebted to my family so you work for us. That's right. But you didn't answer my question, little Jasper. What's your job here?" Jasper gazed at him.

"I'm the stable boy."

"Yes you are." Jonathan stood up and walked around the desk, flipping the knife open and closed again. Jasper tensed. "And what does being the stable boy require you to do?" he stopped in front of the boy and looked down at him, feeling delight at his fear of him.

"I'm supposed to clean out the horse's stables, and make sure the barn is always spotless." Jonathan smiled at him pleasantly.

"And what else are you supposed to do? Think about it." Jasper thought about it.

"Well, there's the horses themselves. I look after them and make sure-" Jonathan held the knife up to silence him.

"Ah, ah! What was that last part?" Jasper licked his lips and twisted his fingers behind his back.

"I look after the horses." he said quietly. Jonathan smiled and looked up at the ceiling.

"You look after the horses! See that's what I thought you did." Jonathan walked around Jasper slowly, trailing the knife under his silky green hair along the back of his neck. "What I wanna know is," Jonathan murmured. "If it's your job to 'look after the horses'…how is it that you have no idea…what happened to _my_ horse? I suppose you weren't _looking _when she just _vanished_?" Jasper swallowed.

"She was fine when I left that night and when I came back she was gone and the air stank of her death."

Jonathan circled around him lazily, dragging the knife gently over his collar bone. His eyes when they met the boy's ultra light green ones seemed almost entirely black. Jasper gasped lightly when he saw them, glinting dangerously inches away from his own. Jonathan was no longer smiling.

"What did you do to my horse, Jasper?" Jasper's eyes widened.

"I didn't do anything to your horse sir, I swear-" Jonathan laughed and Jasper fell silent.

"You swear? That means nothing to me coming from you. You're not even human." Jonathan raised the knife up to Jasper's face and grabbed a fistful of his hair so fast the fairy child barely saw it. Jonathan pressed the blade against his smooth cheek as Jasper grabbed his left arm, meaning to push him away but stopping when he saw the expression on Jonathan's face.

"Sir, please-"

"I bet if I cut you right now…your blood wouldn't even be red." Jonathan murmured to him. Jasper tightened his grip on Jonathan's arm and gasped as he felt the edge of the blade cut his face. Warmth trickled down his cheek and the boy closed his eyes, knowing what Jonathan was seeing and not wanting to look at his face anymore.

"Your blood is fucking green." he said. "Did you hear me? It's green. Open your eyes, look at me when I'm talking to you." His fingers tightened in Jasper's hair and the boy whimpered as he felt hair being ripped from the roots. He opened his eyes. Jonathan grinned. "That's a good boy. Now I want you to keep your eyes open and watch as I kill you. Okay?" Jasper struggled in his grip, trying to push away from him.

"No, no, no, I didn't do anything!" Jonathan lowered the knife to his throat.

"Yes, yes, yes, you did!" he mocked, loving the panicked look in his eyes. "You killed my horse. And for lying to me about it-" Jonathan stopped as Jasper shoved against him, trying in vain to get away. Jonathan clenched his teeth before yanking Jasper's head back angrily, making the boy cry out. "I'm gunna make sure it hurts."

He held the blade to one side of Jasper's throat, and felt the darkness inside of him thrash around excitedly, making his vision blurry and the muscles in his arm flex. Just as he was about to bring the blade across the boy's throat, just after the dark voice whispered _Do it! What are you waiting for…_Jonathan heard a louder voice, coming from behind him.

"Let him go, Jonathan."

The darkness inside of him seemed to scratch down the length of his soul in mindless rage. Jonathan exhaled angrily and smiled with out humor.

"Oh, Angel Boy…you _always _show up at the worst times."

Jace smiled, his eyes blazing as he walked around to face his brother.

"What can I say? I live to torment you." he said quietly. Jonathan turned his black gaze on him.

"That's really too bad for little Jasper. Because now I'm gunna imagine that you're in his place." Jace just stared at him.

"He didn't kill your horse, Jonathan. I did." Jonathan narrowed his eyes at him.

"You're just saying that to protect him."

"I'm not. You can even ask Father. So if you're going to blame someone, blame the person who was actually responsible." Jonathan's face remained etched with fury. Jace spoke in a low, slightly mocking voice; his most persuasive when it came to his brother.

"Come on, Jonathan. Let him go; he's just a fae stable boy anyways. It's me you really wanna hurt."

"I bet slitting his throat would hurt you." Jasper whimpered quietly and Jace hardened his heart against it; he couldn't afford to show him any sympathy because Jonathan was waiting for him to make a stupid mistake like that.

"It wouldn't." Jasper's eyes slipped closed and Jace felt his heart pang. "I wouldn't feel a single thing. Father, however, might not be too happy that you gave our help a Columbian Necktie. Fae with affinities for animals are hard to come by and we don't even have to pay him…Father definitely wouldn't be pleased with you if you seriously hurt him and he'd be livid if you killed him on the good carpet. I hear fairy blood is a bitch to get out." Jace smiled.

With a furious glare, Jonathan shoved Jasper away from him onto the floor in disgust just as Valentine walked in. He raised his eyebrows as he saw Jasper on the floor, between his two sons and holding his bleeding face. With a sigh he turned to Jonathan.

"What have I told you about picking up your toys?" Jace shook his head in disbelief as Jonathan grinned arrogantly.

"Sorry Father, I'll remember next time."

Jace looked down at Jasper, who was staring up at Valentine and Jonathan with undisguised fear. He wanted to go to him and take him out of there, but he knew his father would make him regret it.

Valentine looked down at Jasper with his eyebrow raised. He walked over to him slowly before stopping in front of him.

"Look at me child." Jasper peered up at him, his shocking light green eyes wide. Valentine reached down and lightly took Jasper's chin and turned his injured cheek to the light. He tsked before releasing him. "You may go now, Jasper."

When he was gone, Valentine turned to Jonathan. He plucked the butterfly knife out of his hand and took a handkerchief out of his sleeve. He wiped the blade clean onto the cloth before tossing it into a chair. Then he whipped it across Jonathan's face so quickly Jace barely saw his wrist move. Jonathan flinched but didn't move to hold his face. "What lesson did you learn?" Jonathan lowered his eyes, blood trickling down his cheek the same way it had trickled down Jasper's. Finally, he looked back up.

"Be nice to your toys. They'll last longer."

Valentine's face cracked into a cold grin and he chuckled before flipping the knife closed and handing it back to Jonathan, who was also smiling.

Jace felt sick to his stomach. He took a small breath to fight back the nausea. Valentine heard him.

"I think your brother would do well to learn that lesson. Do you agree Jonathan?" Jonathan looked at him with an arrogant superiority that made Jace want to puke in his face.

"Yes, Father I do."

"Oh there's a surprise: Big brother has his head so far up Daddy's ass he can't tell where his black soul ends and Daddy's begins. I'm just shocked…who could've seen this coming? Oh wait a minute…little Angel Boy did."

Jonathan's jaw dropped as he slowly looked from Jace to his father. Valentine seemed too stunned to speak. Jace realized a little too late that he should have left the room when Jasper had.

Jace blinked and Valentine had him by the throat up against the wall.

"You know, I was beginning to think that you were starting to get some sense into that blonde head of yours but now I realize that you just won't listen to anything but force." he tightened his grip and Jace choked. Valentine leaned close to his face and spoke to him through clenched teeth. "You should get on your knees and thank the Angel that your brother and I are already late for his session, otherwise I'd cut that smart tongue right out of your head. I bet you wouldn't think that was very funny, now would you?" he shoved Jace back against the wall as he released him and the air that he breathed in now felt like shards of glass scratching down his windpipe. "Go, Jonathan." Valentine snapped before leaving the room to the portal. Jace watched them leave with his head leaned back against the wall, wondering idly how long it would take for the bruises on his throat to show up.

Outside in one of their training fields, Jace fit an arrow into his bow, his mind on what his father and brother were doing during Jonathan's training session.

He normally didn't practice with this weapon which was why he chose to bring it out now…since he had nothing better to do. The binding rune his father had placed on him had seen to that. He wanted to wander away from the property, maybe take his horse out, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

As Jace stared down at the feathered end of the arrow, he felt eyes on him from the other end of the field, near the targets. Jace pulled the arrow tight and spun around to aim at…Alec Lightwood, who was unwisely standing beside the target Jace was going to shoot at. Alec looked surprised.

"Wow, there's really no sneaking up on you is there? I don't think I've ever been that quiet in my life." Jace did not lower the strung bow but kept it aimed at him.

"There's more to it then just being quiet." Alec looked at him questioningly.

"Well how did you know I was there?" Jace looked back at him.

"I could sense you looking at me." Alec frowned.

"Huh. I wasn't even looking at you that much. You're just really good at this sneakiness thing."

Jace raised an eyebrow. He had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Alec Lightwood. Before the conversation developed any further, Jace hooded his eyes as he looked at him.

"Can I ask you something?" Alec slipped his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans and nodded his head, making his hair fall forward into his blue eyes that were a few shades lighter in the afternoon sun. "Do you not understand English or are you just stupid?" Alec looked offended.

"Well I definitely understood that." Jace focused on the target next to Alec.

"Oh so you're just stupid. Yeah that's what I thought." Alec crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I'm stupid because I came back right?" Jace looked at him and shot his arrow. It flew through the air and struck the target in the very center. Alec looked down at it, then back up at Jace.

"Are you done showing off?" Jace grinned and strode up to pull out the arrow.

"I'm never done showing off."

He stopped in front of the target and yanked the arrow out of the board, feeling Alec's eyes on him. "So lemme guess. This time you're looking for your great aunt Matilda. She wandered off when she was supposed to be having naptime and just happened to stumble into my wine cellar. Does that sound about right?" Alec scoffed.

"You know, you're pretty hilarious for someone living with a couple of murderers. How did that happen?" Jace slid the arrow through the space between his fingers while looking at him.

"Dunno. Must be a gift from the Angel or something." Alec looked back at him blankly.

"Are you always this sarcastic?" Without meaning to Jace looked down at his left wrist, where the binding rune was visible.

"Yeah, unfortunately." he murmured. Alec glanced down at it.

"What's that?" he asked. Jace looked at him through hooded eyes, the sunlight making their color a liquid gold.

"It's nothing. So why are you back here? Couldn't get enough of me could you?" he said with a cocky grin. Alec looked back up at his face, a light blush coloring his cheek bones.

"Isabelle said I should forget we ever met you but I can't." Jace turned away, the bow thrown over his shoulder and a grin tugging up his lips.

"Yeah, that's what they all say." he started walking across the field and Alec quickly caught up with him.

"I couldn't forget about you without telling you what happened first." he said. The grin slipped from Jace's mouth.

"You mean with my father trying to kill you."

"Well I wouldn't say he really tried to kill me. The threat was there of course. He just wanted me to tell him things that I didn't know." Jace frowned and walked slower.

"Oh yeah? Like what kind of things? Alec stepped in front of him, forcing Jace to stop.

"If I tell you, will you tell me what that rune on your wrist means?"

Jace considered him. Then very slowly, ran his eyes up and down Alec's slender body, making the other boy blush again. Jace took a step closer and spoke with a low, confident tone.

"I won't need to. You'll tell me anyways," Jace let his eyes linger on Alec's mouth, feeling a strong pang of guilt but ignoring it, before he let them slip back up to his eyes. "Won't you?"

Alec's lips parted as he stared back at him, and Jace felt a mixture of pride and self hate. He grinned at Alec and saw a brief flash of desire in the other boy's eyes before he blinked it away. "Wow…that was almost too easy." Jace said before he brushed past Alec and continued walking, now feeling an even stronger sense of guilt.

Alec shook his head a little, as if clearing away cobwebs, before jogging to catch up with Jace's long strides.

"Look I'm only trying to help you and if you're too stubborn to see that-" Jace spun around to face him, his eyes alight with his sudden anger.

"Yeah? And how could you possibly help me? Huh Lightwood?" Alec looked at him, his face serious.

"By telling you things about your family that you might not know."

"What could you tell me that I don't already know? That my brother is twisted and my father doesn't have a soul? Thanks but I figured that out for myself years ago."

Jace turned away but Alec grabbed his forearm. Jace turned and looked down at his hand before raising his eyes up to Alec's. Alec's fingers loosened on his arm seemingly on their own, but he didn't let go.

"Have you ever heard of the Mortal Cup?" Jace looked at him like he was crazy.

"Of course I have. It's what the Angel Raziel gave Jonathan Shadowhunter to drink out of when he created us. Everybody knows the story." Alec looked at him steadily.

"Did you know that your father is looking for it? Along with the Mortal Sword?" Jace thought for a moment.

"How do you know all this?"

Alec looked away; he appeared to be deliberating something in his mind. When he looked back at Jace, his eyes seemed somehow bluer than before.

"Tell me about the rune on your wrist." Jace exhaled quietly in exasperation.

"Why are you so curious about it?" he asked. Alec, still holding him, extended Jace's arm and looked down at it, biting his lip.

Jace made no move to hide the rune but kept it in plain sight; the way he did with all of his scars and imperfections. When Alec spoke again, his voice was quieter.

"I guess because I've never seen it before. I _am _curious. And I can't shake this feeling that…it could be really bad." Jace crossed his arms in front of his chest, pulling out of Alec's grasp as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Well there you go; you're wrong. It's just a binding rune. Nothing malignant about it." Alec frowned and stared at him intently.

"Your own father put a binding rune on you? Why?" Jace smiled bitterly and leaned back against the wall of the barn.

"I pissed him off I suppose. Why what does your dad do when you talk back?"

"I don't talk back." Alec said quietly. Jace pushed up off the barn with his shoulders as his eyes brightened.

"Well aren't you just a little angel? I can't imagine why Jonathan would wanna kill you. Oh wait," he laughed, "That's _exactly_ why he'd wanna kill you. Makes a lot of sense doesn't it?"

Jace turned and started walking again but Alec was suddenly in front of him. Jace gave him the same glare that had made demons hiss and flex their claws at him. Alec however, just looked back at him with those azure eyes, which now seemed a shade or two darker, like he was angry.

"What all does the rune do, Jace? Tell me."

Jace tilted his head thoughtfully. With a little practice, Alec could become quite the little weapon of persuasion. Jace twisted the Morgenstern ring around his finger with his thumb, his eyes sparkling and a very small grin lifting the corner of his mouth. He certainly had the looks for it anyways.

Alec blinked. Jace suddenly looked so much like Valentine that he wanted to take a step back. But there was something so appealing about him that kept Alec where he was.

He thought it was probably because Jace was looking at him the way Alec imagined a bad angel might look at a city of sinners that he himself had corrupted, seconds before he burned them all with a single word from his gorgeous mouth.

Jace looked down at the rune, his eyebrows coming together in a small frown.

"I don't really know. He hasn't needed to use it yet. He's basically just threatened me with it." Alec crossed his arms and looked at it thoughtfully.

"So if he never actually gave you an order…" his eyes flicked back up to Jace's. "Nothing would happen to you right?" Jace shrugged and slipped his thumb nail between his teeth. "I'll tell you what," Alec said as he uncrossed his arms and shifted his weight onto his left foot, "Come with me back to the city. There's someone there who knows a lot about runes and I bet they'll be able to tell you all about this one." Jace bit his nail meditatively.

"I've never been to the city before." Alec raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"And you've lived here your whole life? Why haven't you gone?" Jace repositioned the bow on his shoulder.

"My father forbid me to go." Alec shook his head in disbelief.

"Nice. And I bet he wonders why you rebel…" Jace lowered his eyes, fighting the smile at Alec's sardonic words. "So when he forbid you to go to the city…was that before or after he put the rune on you?" Jace narrowed his eyes at him, seeing where he was going with this.

"Before." Alec grinned.

"So really…nothing's stopping you from going. As long as he didn't use the binding rune to keep you here. Right?"

"I don't know. But are you saying that I should go to the city, regardless of what my father said?" Alec shrugged and glanced down at the rune.

"I can understand completely if you think it's too risky. I can only imagine how he'd react if he found out-" Jace stopped him.

"_If _he found out? " he laughed. "He _always _finds out. I really don't know how he does it." Alec watched him for a few seconds.

"I think this is really important. But if you think it's not worth the risk I understand." Jace bit his lip.

"So lemme get this straight. You're suggesting that I deliberately disobey _my _father, Valentine Morgenstern, and go with you to the city that I've been forbidden to go to, to meet some person who can help me disobey my father even more? And keeping in mind this whole time that there's a very high chance that he'll figure it out, no matter how careful we are about it, because that's just how the man is. That's what you're suggesting?" Alec took a breath.

"Yeah. That's what I'm suggesting."

Jace stared at him for a long time. The crisp, country breeze ruffled their hair and kissed their faces as they stood their, looking at each other.

Then a slow smile teased Jace's mouth up and Alec felt his breathing quicken as a light shiver of heat spread across his skin.

Jace's eyes brightened and he once again looked like a wayward angel that existed for the sole purpose of giving the world a little taste of the destructive sin that only he himself could bring.

He settled those burning eyes on Alec and his smirk became dangerously arrogant as he said,

"Sounds pretty reckless. I'm in."


	11. Chapter 11

Alec looked around at the lavishly decorated interior of the Morgenstern Manor and whistled.

"Nice place." Jace, who was walking ahead of him leading him through the long hallway, glanced over his shoulder, his eyes hard.

"Call me clichéd, but I believe that not everything that glitters is gold." he turned and led them into a study, shutting the door behind them. "This place is a five star hell hole. Trust me." Alec looked around the room and spotted a handkerchief smeared with what looked like fae blood, thrown carelessly in an armchair.

"I believe you." he said quietly.

Jace walked around the desk and opened a door, revealing the portal. Alec came to stand next to him. "Isn't it kind of against the Law to have a portal set up in a private residence?" Jace looked at him.

"It is. My father likes to 'bend' the Law to better suit his desires." Alec suppressed a shudder, trying not to imagine what other Laws Valentine Morgenstern liked to 'bend'. The fae blood smeared cloth suddenly made him wonder what kind of horrors this room had witnessed.

"Should we go then?"

Jace nodded and stepped forward at the same time that Alec did. They bumped into each other, their faces coming very close together before Alec stumbled forward into the portal, while looking back at Jace in alarm.

"Sorr-"

Before he could finish his apology, the portal swept him away with a flash that made Jace's eyes sting. Jace stared after him, feeling a foreboding headache throbbing in his temple. Was there any chance that Alec remembered to think of Alicante in the second before he disappeared…?

"Crap." he groaned before following Alec through the portal.

Jace's feet hit the forest floor for the second time that day and only this time, he did not manage to make the landing very graceful. He tripped over and accidentally pushed a body that had been in the process of standing up and the end result was that both Jace and Alec were on the ground, grumbling angrily.

Jace stood first, brushing grass off the knees of his jeans before he reached down and pulled Alec up to his feet. Alec frowned and looked around at the towering trees with his hands on his hips.

"Uh, this isn't right." he spun in a slow circle, seeing nothing but more trees. "I have no clue where we are." Jace looked in the direction that he knew the warlock Feltman's cabin was.

"I do. This is where my father takes me for my weapons sessions." Alec peered at him in the descending gloom of the forest.

"Well I guess it's good one of us knows where we are…now the question is, how do we get from wherever here is to Alicante?" Jace pointed and Alec looked in the direction he indicated. "What? What am I supposed to be looking at? That house? How is that house supposed to get us to the city?" Jace looked at him and smirked.

"You know, you're pretty entertaining when you get all panicked." he set off towards the warlock's house, and Alec rolled his eyes and followed after him.

"I'm not 'all panicked', I'm just worried. I don't know where we are." Jace laughed.

"Well calm down. I know exactly where we are and how to get us to the city." Alec nodded and they continued walking through the increasingly darkening forest towards the cabin. "And just for the record, when you 'don't get all panicked', your voice gets all high pitched and squeaky. It's pretty funny." Alec scoffed and pushed him at a tree trunk, which Jace skillfully dodged with a chuckle.

"Shut up. I really wasn't panicked." Jace smiled again as they approached the door, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest and he could finally breathe normally.

"Mmhm. Keep telling yourself that Lightwood." Before Jace knocked on the door, he turned to Alec. "Okay, so stay quiet and let me do the talking. We'll get the portal in like, two seconds."

He turned and pounded on the door loudly, the same way his father had. A minute passed with no answer. Alec raised an eyebrow from beside him.

"Two seconds huh?"

"Be quiet." Jace leaned in and pressed his ear to the door, a frown appearing on his face. "Do you hear that?" Alec leaned in and listened too.

"It sounds like mumbling…or chanting?" They listened harder. Jace suddenly lifted his head.

"Wait a second." There was a snap behind them, like the sound of a twig breaking. Both boys slowly turned their heads.

"Oh what the fu-" Alec swore but was interrupted by the high pitched screaming of the Ouimet demon that had appeared behind them, its long barbed talons glinting razor sharp in the dim light. Jace and Alec clapped their hands to their ears as three more screams joined in with the first and more of the demons darted around the house, their eyes a glowing white.

Jace crossed his arms in front of him and drew out his two seraph blades, thankful that he hadn't had the time to take them off. He tossed one to Alec, named his, and watched as the blade sprang up in a flash of white light that made the demons hiss and sink into crouches, their claws spread wide. Alec did the same with his, his face set with hard determination.

Jace ran up to the first one, slashing out at it with his blade, cutting it's flesh with precise and skilled movements. Alec circled around it, slicing down at it's leg and sending it to the ground as Jace plunged his blade through the center of it's back, killing it as it's scream echoed resoundingly.

Alec darted to the left as Jace sped off to the right, both meeting demons head on. Alec's demon slashed at him and he ducked, whirling his blade up and slicing off the demon's talon tipped hand. It screamed and retreated back, it's glowing white eyes wide as ichor gushed out of it's arm.

Jace stabbed his demon twice in the lower belly before it started to claw at him, however he quickly ended the fight when he thrust his blade up through the demon's skull. As he was pulling the blade loose again, the demon crumpling in on itself, another skittered up behind him.

"Jace look out!" Alec yelled.

Jace spun around, whirling his blade and caught the demon across the throat as Alec plunged his weapon up under the ribs of his demon, killing it. Alec ran up as a fifth demon jumped down onto Jace from the trees above. It attached itself to his back, digging its claws in ferociously. Jace yelled in pain and collapsed to his knees under its weight, his seraph blade slipping from his sweaty hand.

Alec wound his arm back and Jace ducked. The demon's head sheered completely from its body and thumped away on the grass, spraying black blood all over them. Jace heaved the body off of him, feeling an agonizing burning in his shoulder as he bent to retrieve his blade.

The demon with the slit throat lunged at Alec's turned back, and Jace flung his blade over Alec's shoulder, catching it right in the forehead. The demon fell to the ground before it too, crumpled in on itself, leaving behind only the glowing angel blade, dripping with its blood, to ever show it had existed in the first place.

Both boys panted and looked around, expecting more demons, but the forest was quiet again. Jace turned towards the warlocks' house, his eyes dark with fury, when his shoulder seemed to split open. He yelled in pain and stumbled sideways into a tree as Alec spun in alarm, his blade raised to fend off another attack.

When he saw that they were safe he lowered his blade again, concern crossing his features.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked him. Jace clenched his teeth.

"My shoulder." Alec slipped his blade into his belt and walked around Jace to look at it. His eyes widened as he inhaled a breath through his teeth. Jace glanced back at him. "What is it?" Alec bit his lip.

"Well, I think the one in the tree got you with its claws and it kind of…broke off in your shoulder."

"Well pull it out." Jace said roughly. Alec raised his eyebrows.

"Have you ever seen the ends of a Ouimet demon's claws?" Jace fought for his fleeting patience and failed.

"No, why? Are they really sharp?" Alec ignored his tone.

"That and they have wicked barbs on them…" Jace groaned lightly.

"Yeah, that feels about right."

"I don't think you want me to just yank it out, especially since it looks like its all the way in the muscle."

"Well what are you suggesting, Dr. Lightwood?" Jace snapped.

"Give me your knife." Jace gingerly pulled out the small dagger and handed it to him over his shoulder, trying not to move too fast. "Okay I'm gunna cut a line down from the hole so that the barbs won't rip through when I pull it out." Jace braced his hand on the tree trunk.

"Go for it."

Alec slipped the knife through Jace's shirt and cut it open, careful not to bump the claw. Then he pressed the point down onto his skin at the base of the claw and took a quiet breath. Jace tensed as he drew the blade down far enough to allow the quills to be pulled out without causing him too much pain.

As Alec cut him, Jace was silent. His shoulders tightened slightly but he gave no other evidence of being in pain. It made Alec wonder how he had come to bear pain so stoically. Sure, all Shadowhunters had high pain tolerances…but Jace seemed especially tolerant. Blood ran down Jace's shoulder blade from the deep cut and Alec set the knife down on the ground before wrapping his hand around the eight inch talon. He rocked it gently down towards the cut and Jace's shoulder's tightened even more.

"Sorry…" Alec said.

"It's nothing don't worry about it." Alec frowned, not sure if his definition of nothing quite matched up with Jace's.

"Okay, I'm gunna pull it now. I'll try to be…gentle? I guess?" Jace grunted at him.

"Sure."

"Okay on the count of three. Are you ready?"

"Just do it."

Alec tightened his grip on the talon, while placing his hand on Jace's back to steady himself. Jace took a breath.

"One-"

Alec yanked as hard as he could, feeling like the boy from the Sword and the Stone. Jace's yell didn't quite cover up the sound of his skin tearing, and Alec grimaced as he looked down at the dripping talon in his hand. "Three."

Jace folded at the waist, his hand still bracing the tree, and groaned in his throat. He glared up at Alec, his blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"Who the hell taught you how to count?" he panted. Alec smirked and tossed the talon at his feet.

"It's out isn't it." Jace sucked in a breath through his teeth as he straightened up and pulled out his stele. He handed it to Alec, who began drawing an iratze on his shoulder blade.

"Yeah. Thanks for that." he said as the pain left him and Alec handed him back his stele.

"Mmhm." Alec looked at him thoughtfully. "Was it just me…or did you and I make a good team?"

Jace had actually been thinking the exact same thing earlier. He now knew what his father had been trying to accomplish between himself and Jonathan, but the two boys hated eachother too much to become bonded fighting partners that watched over eachother during battles.

Jace and Alec fought with fluidity, each one sensing where the other one was when they needed help and knowing exactly what to do to help them. Their fighting styles complimented eachother's perfectly, whereas Jace's and Jonathan's clashed together and had always distracted the two from the demons. Now Jace understood what the word parabatai meant, and with a start, he realized that he already trusted Alec with his life. Jace looked up and his eyes fell on the cabin. His epiphany faded to the back of his mind.

"Hold that thought."

Now healed, Jace strode towards the warlock's house, feeling his anger igniting again with surprising speed and strength.

"Jace, what are you doing?" Alec asked as he appeared at his side.

"Feltman has some explaining to do."

Jace pounded on the door, not expecting anyone to answer it, before trying the knob.

"It's locked. Try a rune." Alec said. Jace did, and the door still would not let them enter. "Hmm. Guess he's spelled the door." Jace pushed past him. "I guess we could go around back and-"

Alec jumped as he heard a loud crash and breaking glass. He turned and saw that Jace had thrown a metal chair through the window and was now kicking the frame in. Alec scratched his ear.

"Or you know, we could go through the window. Whatever works…" he said.

"Come on, Lightwood."

Jace put a foot up onto the window ledge and pulled himself into the warlock's darkened house. With a sigh, Alec pulled out his witch light and followed, resigning himself to the fact that with Jace Morgenstern, there were no dull moments.


	12. Chapter 12

Jace scanned the darkened interior of the cabin with his hand clenched around the handle of his blade, waiting for the moment it took for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Alec's witch light cast long shadows along the walls and set an eerie glow to the many bottles and odd objects that cluttered the shelves that ran along the edges of the room. The two boys quietly crept towards the back of the cabin when they heard a scuffling coming from behind the over turned table.

Jace raised his blade, sending its light out in front of him while beckoning Alec to follow him. The light of the blade fell on a pair of legs that were jutting out from behind the fallen table. Jace narrowed his eyes and approached cautiously. He stepped around the table as he raised his blade up over his head.

Feltman cried out, covering his face with one blood soaked arm.

"Please, just leave me alone!" Jace didn't lower his weapon. Alec moved to stand next to him.

"Jace who is this?" Feltman peeked over his arm at the sound of another voice. As Jace stared down at him, blinking because of the lights in his face, he couldn't help but be reminded of a blood soaked rat.

"This is the warlock piece of filth that set the Ouimet demons on us." Jace said with distaste. Feltman shook his head.

"I didn't know it was you!" Jace sneered as he lowered his seraph blade down and pointed it at the Downworlder.

"Right. Give me one good reason why I should believe you." The warlock stuttered. "Nope, not good enough." Jace raised his blade.

"Jace!" Jace turned to look at Alec. "Maybe he's telling the truth." Jace scoffed and looked down Feltman with scorn

"He's not." As Jace raised his blade up again, Feltman yelled out,

"I thought it was your father and brother coming back to finish me off!" Jace frowned.

"What are you talking about? Explain what happened." Alec said. Feltman stared at Jace warily.

"Start talking or I start cutting off limbs." Jace threatened. To his surprise, the old warlock laughed. Alec and Jace glanced at each other.

"He's serious, I wouldn't test him." Alec said. Feltman raised tired eyes up to Alec's blue ones.

"I have no doubt that he's serious. He's just a little too late to threaten me with that." he raised up his left arm and Alec stifled a gasp of shock. His arm was missing from the elbow down, the stump the source of the blood that the warlock was drenched in.

"What happened. Tell me before I remember that I don't really care." Jace said tonelessly. Feltman glared at him.

"Your family happened. They came here and did this to my house. Then your…_brother _cut off my arm…"

"But why? What did you do?" Feltman looked away. Jace raised his voice. "What did you do Feltman?" The warlock flinched and refused to meet his eyes. When he spoke again his voice was nearly a whisper so that the boys had to lean in to hear him.

"I told other warlocks to refuse to do business with him, and I may have told them…other things…" Jace's eyes widened.

"What other things?" Alec asked. The warlock remained silent. Jace pressed the seraph blade into his chest.

"Answer! What other things did you tell them?" he demanded, his patience starting to wear thin. Feltman looked up at him miserably.

"I told them he was looking for the Cup…" Jace heard Alec let out a shocked breath.

"You fool. Did you really think my father wouldn't find out? You might as well have just painted a giant target on your back." Jace said venomously. "Didn't it occur to you that he would have other warlocks already working for him? That's how he found out isn't it?" When he didn't answer right away Jace pressed the point of the angel blade into his sternum. Blood bloomed up when the blade pierced him.

"Jace." Alec pulled at his sleeve. The warlock didn't seem to notice.

"Yes that's how he found out. He said that killing me…would be too easy. That I deserved to suffer first. That I would die slowly, without my magic to help me…" the warlock's voice quieted and he seemed to sag back against the cupboard behind him. Jace's seraph blade reflected off of the pool of blood that had been collecting around him from his arm.

"Yeah…that sounds like something he would say." Jace murmured as he lowered his blade. The warlock started to mumble incoherently and Alec looked down at him sadly.

"He's gunna die Jace. What do we do?"

"And they stole from me too! The demons…" Jace crouched down in front of the warlock, leaning his weight onto his blade.

"Feltman, hey look at me. I need you to do something for me. For us." he gestured to him and Alec. Feltman focused his blurry eyes on Jace's golden ones. "It's very important…I know I don't deserve your help after what they've done to you…"

"I'll do it. Whatever it is I'll do it." Jace's eyes widened in surprise as did Alec's.

"You will? Really?" Feltman nodded tiredly before looking at him with grave eyes.

"On one condition." Jace bit his lip. This was the part where he had to agree to something that was going to inevitably screw him over. But what choice did he have? They needed a portal…

"Fine. What's your condition?"

"Jace…" Alec said worriedly. Jace shushed him.

"We need the portal, Alec." The warlock's eyes seemed to glint.

"I'll make you a portal with the last of my magic…if you, Jace Morgenstern, promise to kill me afterwards." Jace stared at him. "It's a pretty fair trade if you ask me." the warlock said weakly.

"I don't know about this, Jace." Alec said. Jace stood up and took his sleeve before pulling him across the room to talk to him.

"How else are we gunna get back?"

"I can't believe you're considering this!"

"He's dying anyways."

"It's still murder."

"He's a Downworlder." Alec narrowed his blue eyes at him.

"And obviously that means something different to you than it does to me." Jace felt a pang of guilt but pushed it away.

"So you're saying we should just leave him here to die slowly like my father intended? How is that humane?" Alec raised an eyebrow.

"Oh so Downworlders have feelings now?"

"Oh for fuck's sake…" Jace resisted the urge to shake him. "Look, plain and simple: he can help us and we can help him. Okay? Can you handle that Lightwood?" Alec's eyes seemed to burn through him.

"Yeah I can handle it. He's just a means to a result. But can you handle the result Morgenstern? I sure hope you can because you're the one that's going to have to live with what you're about to do." With that, Alec pushed past him and returned to Feltman.

Jace stared at the spot he had been standing in before feeling himself go numb. A second later, he followed Alec back to the injured warlock.

"We have a deal." Jace said. Feltman started up at him gravely.

"Your word Nephilim. Swear to the Angel." Jace saw Alec's shoulders tighten.

"I swear to the Angel that I'll keep my end of the deal as long as you keep yours."

Feltman smiled wearily before placing his finger tip in the pool of blood next to him. Then with obvious effort, he began drawing a circle of runes on the cupboard door, while speaking the words of the spell.

Alec stood and backed away, not meeting Jace's eyes. Soon, the telltale shimmer of a portal was gleaming next to Feltman, who had gone a pasty gray color.

"There. It's done. Don't be a liar like your father, boy." Feltman said.

Jace lowered the point of his blade over the warlock's heart as he crouched down in front of him. With a hand on his shoulder, Jace leaned in and shoved the seraph blade through his chest. Blood bubbled out of the corner of his mouth before Jace pulled his blade free again.

"I won't." Jace said as he gracefully stood up.

The warlock's milky eyes closed and his raspy breath silenced, leaving the room dead quiet. Jace turned and cleaned his blade off on a ragged curtain that hung limply from a small window. Finally, he turned to Alec.

The other boy was staring at him with a strange mixture of anger and pity, and it seemed to wake Jace out of his stupor. He gestured expressively at the portal with his blade. "You think you can manage to keep your head and get us to the right place this time?" he asked meanly.

Alec glared at him before striding past him and into the portal. He disappeared with a flash that made Jace's eyes sting. Before following him, Jace turned and looked back at the dead warlock on the ground. Suddenly his brother's words echoed in his head. _I killed someone tonight…_

Jace turned away from the body and went after Alec, telling himself that the tears in his eyes were remnants from the portal's blinding flash and nothing more.


	13. Chapter 13

Jace knew they were in the right place when his boots hit worn cobblestone instead of grass. He looked up at Alec, who was staring at him with hard eyes. Before Jace could let himself look around, he turned to face the dark haired boy.

"Okay look, I'm sorry you had to be there for that. I want you to know that I wouldn't have done it if there had been any other way. But I'm used to having to do things that I don't want to do-"

"So that makes it okay?" Alec interrupted bluntly. Jace stared back at him, his eyes a light gold.

"No. It doesn't." Alec crossed his arms.

"So why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you stabbed."

"Well I can't apologize to him and he wouldn't accept it anyways because it was his idea. You had to be there and see me do it and I'm sorry for that. And…" Jace took a small breath, trying not to feel stupid but failing. "I really hope that this doesn't change our friendship." Alec raised an eyebrow.

"What friendship?" Jace rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

"Oh come on…" he gestured between the two of them. "This. This is pretty cool and I personally wouldn't want it to end over something like me doing a mercy killing that you didn't agree with…" Jace frowned at how odd that sounded.

"You really think we're friends?" Alec said doubtfully. Jace met his eyes.

"No. I think we're parabatai. And if you try to say we aren't, you're a liar and I just might throw a massive temper tantrum until you admit it." Alec's face cracked into a smile.

"Oh lord no. Anything but that." he said as he rolled his eyes. Jace grinned.

"Trust me; I'm capable of wicked and monumental tantrums." Alec laughed.

"I'm sure you are. So are you gunna look now or do I have to make you?"

Jace's eyes sparkled and Alec once again felt that shiver of something more that he felt towards the blonde Shadowhunter.

Jace turned away from Alec and took his first real look at Alicante.

The witch light streetlamps cast a surreal glow over everything, giving Jace the feeling of being in a dream.

He realized that using just his sight wasn't enough; he wanted to experience this forbidden city with every sense. He inhaled the evening air in and smelled something sugary sweet and saw that there was a bakery down the street that was closing up for the night.

Jace started to walk, trailing the fingertips of his left hand along everything he passed; the rough bricks of buildings, the iron of the street lamps. Alec followed silently behind him, finding happiness in watching him experience the city for the first time.

Jace led them into a large garden that was stuck randomly between two houses.

They were standing next to a fountain that plashed silvery water down from the hands of a beautiful fairy woman, and the sound of it seemed to fill Jace with peace.

Alec felt himself breathing slower as the soothing sound of the melodic water became the only thing that he could hear while the serene look on Jace's face the only thing he could see.

Jace trailed his fingers in the water, a small smile playing across his lips before he turned to a tree that was behind the fountain. He reached up and pulled a pomegranate off the branch closest to him, the curve of his shoulders and back drawing Alec's attention.

Alec watched him, captivated as Jace looked down at the fruit before bringing it up to his mouth. His lips brushed the skin of the pomegranate before they parted and his white teeth sank into the fruit with a soft, wet sound as he took a bite. Alec tried to remember how to breathe as juice ran down Jace's wrist and he licked his lips.

"How's it taste?" Alec asked him, his voice coming out low.

Jace looked up at him, his eyes sort of unfocused, and held out the pomegranate to him.

Alec crossed the grass, never taking his eyes off the bite Jace had made in the fruit he was now offering him.

When he was standing in front of him, Alec took Jace's wrist in his hand before gently pushing him back against the trunk of the tree with his other hand. Before Jace could do anything but look at him with those dazed and innocent golden eyes, Alec slid his hand up to his face and kissed him.

His lips were soft, sweet, and lightly sticky from the pomegranate.

Alec leaned into him, pressing Jace back into the tree even more before he pulled Jace's bottom lip between his and sucked on it gently. Jace gasped lightly against Alec's mouth and the sound of it sent a shiver of heat through Alec.

Jace's hand went slack and the pomegranate thumped to the grass, and all Alec had time to think was that for some reason the noise sounded wrong.

Suddenly, the spell they seemed to be caught in shattered as Jace shoved Alec away from him, the back of his hand pressed against his mouth and his eyes hot with anger.

"What the _hell _was that?" Jace yelled at him. Alec blinked rapidly and looked around.

"Oh god…Jace I'm sorry I don't know what happened-" he broke off as Jace whipped out his seraph blade and raised the point to Alec's throat, his face furious. "Whoa! You would pull a knife over something like this!"

"You'd better start explaining Lightwood-" Alec made an incredulous noise.

"What's there to explain! I kissed you and you freaked and pulled a weapon on me!"

"I know that! I meant why did you kiss me in the first place!" Alec ran his hand through his hair.

"I don't know…this place got to me and then you and the damn fruit…look it was a mistake and it won't happen again, _trust me. _I value my life too much to do something this stupid again. Now will you please get that out of my face, it's not comforting to know that it's already killed one person today." Jace lowered the seraph blade.

"I thought you were going to let that go."

"Tell you what: I'll forget about that if you forget about this. Deal?" Jace slipped the blade back into his belt.

"Deal." They shook hands. Alec tried to ignore the fact that Jace's hand was sticky with pomegranate juice.

"Let's get the hell out of here. Something's up with this place." They strode out of the garden and back onto the cobblestone street. As soon as the garden was blocks behind them, Alec let out a sigh. "Well this is turning out to be quite a day of firsts. What have you learned?" Jace laughed once.

"Never offer you food again. You take it as an open invitation for completely unrelated activities." Alec rolled his eyes. Jace smirked. "So where are we going?" Alec pointed up ahead of them.

"That blue house up there is where my family and some friends are staying."

"And the person who can help me with this rune is there?"

"Yeah hopefully."

The boys crossed the street and approached the large blue house to find that there was some one leaning against the door frame. Isabelle's lips pursed as she saw them, but she continued to inspect her nails for chips until they were walking up the steps.

"Alec, what did mom say about bringing home the neighborhood strays?" Alec tsked at her and gave her a reproachful look. Jace narrowed his eyes as he continued up the stairs towards the other Lightwood that didn't seem to like him much…yet. He flashed her a smile before looking her up and down. Isabelle's eyebrows shot up.

"Nice to see you too, Isabelle. Rough night?" Jace asked with a sympathetic tone. Isabelle frowned at him and dropped her hand to her side with attitude.

"No?" Jace's mouth curved with his signature cocky grin.

"Oh sorry. Must just be your face." Jace dropped her a wink before stepping around her towards the door. Alec laughed loudly at the expression on his sister's face before lightly tugging a strand of her black hair.

"Oh come on. That was funny and you know it." he said as he opened the door and they all entered the house. Isabelle grudgingly crossed her arms.

"Don't encourage him Alexander. The world doesn't need a cockier Jace Morgenstern."


	14. Chapter 14

Jace, upon hearing Isabelle's comment, laughed and threw her a look over his shoulder.

"Oh what a world it would be." he said teasingly.

Isabelle scoffed and gave him a scathing look as she walked past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder as she did. Jace laughed again while rubbing his sore shoulder. He glanced at Alec who had shut the door and was standing next to him. "Is she ever going to like me?" Alec peered after his sister who had went into the dining room.

"Trust me she does like you. Just give her some time to get over the grudge that she has against your family." Jace nodded and stared in the same direction Alec was looking.

Somebody crossed in front of the doorway of the dining room, framed by the bright ceiling lights. A short somebody with a flash of bright red hair. Jace blinked and the person was gone. Jace's heart thudded in his chest painfully. _What just happened…? _

"Jace? Are you okay?"

"Who was that?" Alec frowned and looked back at the doorway.

"Who?"

"The redhead." Alec looked back at Jace.

"Oh, that was Clary. A friend from New York." A small grin pulled at Jace's mouth. "Jace?" Jace had suddenly decided to follow Isabelle without a word. Alec stared at the back of his head glumly and slowly trailed behind him.

In the dining room, Jace's eyes were immediately drawn to the table where she sat, leaning intently over what looked like a sketch pad, a gold pastel held lightly in her fingers. Isabelle sat in the chair next to her, long legs crossed at the ankle and propped up on the table. Isabelle was sharpening a very thin knife, and looked up at him with a razor stare as he approached them. Clary, focused on her picture, didn't notice him.

Jace stopped in front of her, his eyes drinking in her face as she gazed down at what she was drawing. Curious, Jace looked down at it.

It was a drawing of a golden angel with a blade held lightly in his hand. His wings stretched out as if he was about to fly away but he had a somewhat anguished look on his upturned face, like something was holding him back.

"I think it's missing something." Jace said to her. Clary gazed down at the picture more intently, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows.

"I know. I just can't figure out what it is." her voice was light and dreamy, but somehow focused and intent at the same time.

She blinked once in confusion before finally looking up at him. Her green eyes widened and her lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Jace couldn't help but smile.

"Hey. I'm Jace."

"I'm Clary."

"Yeah, I know. Like the herb, Clary sage." Clary couldn't tear her eyes away from him.

"Sure." she said dazedly.

Jace lowered his eye lashes, trying to hide the amusement he was feeling, but he knew he could do nothing about concealing the crooked grin. He flicked his eyes back up to hers and she seemed to be trying to look away from his face.

Her green eyes stared up at the ceiling as she took a small breath. Recognition flashed within him but was gone too fast for him to catch a hold of.

"Have we met?" he asked her. Clary looked back down at him and her eyes kept moving down as she got a good look at the rest of him. She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm pretty sure I would've remembered you."

Isabelle elbowed her and threw her a 'shut up are you crazy' look that seemed to wake her up. She shook her head. "Uh, I mean-" Jace's grin turned to a smile as she blushed lightly.

"Jace. You ready?" Alec said from the doorway. Jace looked over his shoulder at him.

"For what?" Alec gave him a look of impatience.

"What did you come here for?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry, I got distracted." he said as he looked back at Clary, who blushed even more.

Jace lightly took her right hand off the table and rubbed a smear of gold pastel off her skin with his thumb. Her breathing quickened as she stared up at his face, watching as his expression changed as he looked down at her drawing again.

"I hope you figure out what's missing." he said before letting his hand slip away from hers.

"Yeah, me too." she said quietly.

Jace flicked his eyes back up to hers and flashed her a little smile before forcing himself to turn away from the table.

Alec moved aside for him before meeting Isabelle's eyes across the room. Their sibling telepathy went to work over Clary's head.

_Uh oh… Any chance that either one of them will just forget that they met? _Alec rolled his eyes. _Are you kidding? That was grade A flirting. They're doomed. _Isabelle smirked and looked down at Clary as her brother followed Jace into the living room.

"You need a napkin to mop up that drool?" Clary threw her a halfhearted dirty look that was ruined by the smile.

"Be quiet, Iz." she said as she nudged Isabelle in the arm.

Alec led them down a hallway to a door made of rich oak wood. They stopped in front of it and Alec turned to Jace.

"Okay. I know this is going to be difficult for you. In more than one way. But please, please, _please…_don't insult him." Jace raised his eyebrows in a overly hurt look.

"What are you talking about? I'm only ever charming." Alec gazed at him with heavy lidded eyes. Jace grinned wickedly. "Well usually." he murmured.

"Please behave. You do remember that this is for your benefit right?" The rune that inked around his wrist seemed to stand out malevolently.

"Yeah, yeah." Alec turned away from him with a small sigh. _Here goes nothing, _he thought as he rapped his knuckles on the expensive wood.

"Enter."

Jace cocked an eyebrow. Alec gave him a look of warning before turning the handle and pushing open the door. Alec entered first, and Jace followed behind him, his eyes trailing over the room's décor.

It was nice, but Jace wasn't impressed; he had seen plenty of wealthy rooms in his lifetime and it was all the same after awhile. Everything in the room was to be expected, from the white leather furniture to the marble topped bar. The tall man standing by the fireplace, however, was not.

"Alec, my darling. I was wondering when you would show up again."

Jace felt his eyebrows disappear into his bangs as the lanky man turned and walked up to them, lightly holding a delicate martini glass filled with acid blue liquid in his right hand.

He appeared to be quite young, perhaps only nineteen though he carried himself like someone who had seen it all, and wasn't impressed. His smooth skin was a light caramel color, and his black hair…was spiked up with an insane amount of glitter.

Jace blinked a few times as he approached, wondering if he was really seeing this person. He had on a tight black shirt with the sleeves artfully ripped and even tighter jeans with more than one stud belt looped around his slim waist.

"Magnus," Alec said in greeting. "How are you?" Magnus raised the glass in a toast to him with dark glitter painted nails.

"I would say 'fantastic' but I'm afraid it isn't true." A frown crossed Alec's face.

"Why is that?" Magnus pursed his lips before reaching out and twining a stand of Alec's hair around his finger.

"Alec my sweet, I'm afraid that I've fallen victim to a most dreadful case of boredom. Which is, as you know, ghastly for people such as myself." Alec smiled as sparks flew from Magnus' fingertips in the exact shade of blue as his eyes.

"Well I may have a cure." he angled his body to include Jace in the exchange. "Jace this is Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Magnus this is Jace-"

"Morgenstern." Magnus finished, his gold green cat eyes glittering as they settled on Jace. Jace hooded his eyes. "No we haven't met, but I'd know that arrogant posture anywhere." Magnus set his drink down on the bar behind Alec. "You do resemble Daddy quite a bit don't you? Much to everyone's surprise."

"So I've been told." Jace said as he raised his chin. Magnus' strange eyes gleamed before he crossed his arms, cocked a hip and leaned his weight on one foot. "So you've met my father?" Magnus glanced down at his nails, feeling their edges with his thumb.

"Yes, I did have the…misfortune, of meeting Valentine once or twice before." Jace's eyes flicked down at his attire.

"Yes. That is unfortunate."

"And that's quite a smart mouth you've got on you." Magnus said as he took a slow step towards Jace, his eyes bright and impossible. "I bet Daddy dearest doesn't like it very much when you talk back to him…" he stopped in front of Jace and reached down, taking his wrist in his hand and lifting it up to prove his point. "Is that how you got this wonderfully sinister adornment, little Nephilim?" he asked softly. "I bet that's why you're here huh?" Jace gazed back at him stonily.

"Well you don't miss much do you?" Magnus' grin was as soft as a knife as he shook his head.

"Now ask me if I'm going to help you."

Jace flicked his eyes towards Alec, who was watching their exchange nervously like he was expecting bloodshed.

"I think your tone is a clear enough answer as any." Magnus smiled and tilted his head to the side, making Jace return his eyes to him.

"Well it can't hurt you to ask nicely." Magnus crossed his slim arms and waited.

"Fine…will you?" The warlock's eyes glittered wickedly.

"Will I what, Jace?"

Jace stared at him coldly. He knew Magnus was just playing with him and enjoying it immensely. Jace wondered how badly his father had insulted him. He could only imagine.

"Will you help me? Please?"

"Help you with what? Be specific." Jace inhaled a breath angrily through his nose. Magnus raised his eyebrows. "Ah ah! Patience, Morgenstern. Ask me again."

Jace raised a hand to his eyes and blocked out the room for a moment, feeling a headache throbbing at his temples. Well he might as well show him just how much of a Morgenstern he was…Jace slowly lowered his hand and spoke with a slow and careful grace.

"I would really appreciate it, Magnus, if you could help me figure out what this rune does to me. And if its possible, your talents with magic could really be useful in removing it," he met Magnus' cat eyes with his golden ones and locked his gaze. "That is if you'd be willing enough to offer me the help that I need, regardless of who my father is."

Alec was unaware that he was holding his breath as his eyes flicked back to the warlock, waiting for his response. Magnus smiled.

"See? That wasn't so hard was it?" he took a step closer to Jace, testing him to see what he would do. Jace stayed where he was; of course he would be good under pressure.

"Now while I do love to be charmed by beautiful boys…" Magnus ran his finger lightly down Jace's cheek, liking how Jace suddenly wouldn't look him in the eyes. One of Magnus' favorite hobbies was making tough guys nervous and he did it extremely well.

"_Your _charm, has that distinct Morgenstern taste to it, which makes me wonder if you all just have a little charm switch that you flip on and off when you need it." Jace looked up at him, his golden eyes growing dark. "So while I enjoy a pretty face and a smooth talker as much as the next person…" Magnus turned away from him, "I'm afraid the answer is no."

"Magnus," Alec said imploringly. The Downworlder arched an eyebrow at him. "You're not being fair, he asked you nicely just like you wanted him to."

"Alexander, life isn't fair. It's about time you learned that."

Alec's blue eyes darkened with hurt. Magnus turned away from him as well, and leaned into the bar, meaning to pour himself another acid blue drink.

"It's okay, Alec. He probably can't help anyways." Jace said lightly.

Magnus' eyes flicked up from the alcohol. He set the bottle back down on the marble before turning back to Jace, who had his jaw set.

"Careful now, you wouldn't want to say something you'd regret." Magnus warned softly.

Jace's eyes held that telltale sparkle of iniquity that made Alec pinch the bridge of his nose in exhaustion.

"And FYI, reverse psychology is a very feeble and transparent persuasion tool. Come back and play this game with me when you actually know the rules, little boy." Magnus said sweetly.

Alec sighed and pulled out a bar stool. Jace approached Magnus slowly, watching his fingertips out of the corner of his eye for sudden sparks.

"Who said that's what I was doing? You not being able to get your magic up is the only reason I can think of for you refusing to help me."

Jace stopped in front of Magnus, who was staring at him with anger glowing in his eyes.

"Not being able to perform adequately must really take a toll on your confidence." Jace said in a low voice.

Magnus narrowed his eyes and raised a hand to Jace's face, a few hot sparks flying up from his fingers before he gently traced the line of Jace's jaw with still heated fingertips.

"Do you wanna see just how confident I am with my performance?"

Back in his stool at the bar, Alec reached for the bottle of blue liquid and took a medicinal swig from it. He cringed as the drink burned down his throat, surprised at how strong it was. He'd assumed that something that looked like liquid candy would taste a little bit less like rubbing alcohol.

Alec forced his mind back on the situation at hand, knowing that there were two possible outcomes. This situation could either turn out very bad, where Jace and Magnus attacked each other with blades and magic…or it could turn out very good...

But Alec, knowing his luck and knowing Jace, had a feeling that this particular situation would only end badly. He should have figured out earlier that his luck and Jace seemed to have a direct effect on every situation that they found themselves in.

With borderline exhaustion, Alec turned back to Jace and Magnus and braced himself for the fireworks.


	15. Chapter 15

"Why don't you just admit the real reason you don't want to help me, your Highness?" Jace said with just enough mockery in his tone for it to be an insult. Magnus stared back at him, his pupils seeming to contract into angry slivers of black.

"Oh do tell?"

"You won't help me because of who my father is. In fact, you knew from the moment you recognized me that you wouldn't help me. All that 'ask me nicely' bullshit was just so you could toy with me because you never had any intention of telling me about this rune." Jace felt his eyes narrow in disgust. "You know, for someone who has such a bad opinion of Valentine, you're not too different from the man. You like to play with people for the sole purpose of watching them squirm. Never mind how they must feel, all that matters is your own amusement right?" Magnus smirked.

"I'm sure you know better than anyone how it feels to be the object of Daddy's little games of amusement huh?" Jace's expression went blank with forced indifference.

"That's right."

Magnus' eyes sparked, but then remembering his own father, he felt the light in them extinguish completely and felt sickened with himself for the cruel words that had just danced on his tongue, so willing to rush out and try to hurt the Shadowhunter in front of him.

"I can't imagine what that must be like." Magnus said quietly. Jace's eyes flicked over the subtle changes in Magnus' expression before he clenched his teeth, suddenly more angry then he had been since the exchange began.

"Save your pity for somebody who needs it, Downworlder." Jace said with venom. Magnus studied him, and Jace suddenly sensed an air of extreme exhaustion from him. His strange eyes seemed ancient when they met Jace's.

"You mistake compassion for pity, Nephilim. I believe its because you've rarely ever been shown it so you don't recognize the extreme difference." The blonde boy didn't seem to have a response to this. Magnus sighed and turned away from him.

"I don't understand." Jace said. Magnus glanced at him over his shoulder, amusement playing across his lips.

"And what don't you understand, little Shadowhunter?"

"You." Magnus grinned now.

"Oh, honey, don't feel bad. There are people who have known me for centuries who still don't understand me. And you've just met me today." Jace crossed his arms.

"That's not what I meant." Magnus heard the change in his tone and turned to face him again.

"Well spit it out then, love. Not literally though; that rug is made from a very rare animal and costs more than you can imagine." Jace looked down at the lavish skin that he was standing on. After a few seconds, he flicked his eyes back up to the warlock.

"Clearly, you dislike Valentine." he stated after a pause. Magnus inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I'm guessing, since you're still alive, that he insulted you in one way or another. He has…a way of looking at you and knowing just what to say. He can easily tear a person down to the bone with just a sentence." Magnus raised his head as he narrowed his eyes slightly. Jace sauntered forward slowly.

"What I don't understand, is why you aren't jumping at the chance to get him back." Magnus' eyes flashed.

"You think I'm a fool? I know better than to cross him over something as silly as a comment." Jace tilted his head and observed Magnus carefully.

"But it wasn't just a silly comment was it? It was unnecessary and offensive. And he made it clear that he truly believed it and didn't care what you thought in response."

"So what are you getting at?" Magnus said, not liking that Jace seemed to know so much about it though he was sure the boy hadn't known what had been said. Jace's eyes burned into his and the smallest of grins appeared on his lips.

"So why not get even?"

Feeling himself being drawn into Jace's persuasion, Magnus realized that the boy in front of him was truly dangerous when he flipped that charm switch. His father would be proud.

"No thanks. I'm not quite suicidal."

"Don't you think he deserves it? I need you to help me get back at him Magnus." Jace said quietly, his eyes widening slightly. With effort, Magnus turned away from him. He'd hate to see what this kid could do with a little magic at his disposal…or, he'd really love it…

"No, Jace. I don't come out and play when the game is revenge. Being seventeen, I don't really expect you to understand the enormity of that statement."

Jace stared at him with a cold expression before looking away at the wall, disappointment making his chest ache. He was stupid to have gotten his hopes up. Why had he thought that Magnus would help him? He _was_ a Downworlder after all…

"I'll tell you what. I'll tell you about the rune and do whatever I can to remove it," Magnus walked over to the bar before turning and leaning back against it, facing Jace with his arms crossed and a hard look in his eyes. "If you can answer one question with complete honesty." Jace raised his eyebrows.

"That's it?" Magnus inclined his head and lowered his lashes slowly.

"That's it." Alec looked doubtfully from Jace to Magnus.

"But how will you know if he's being honest or not?" Alec asked.

Magnus glanced down at Alec's hand that was dangling over the edge of the table top before pressing his up underneath it so that their palms and fingertips were lightly touching.

He pulled his fingers back an inch before making gold sparks erupt from his fingertips. Magnus watched as they bounced off of Alec's skin, knowing that he was feeling a soft, tickling sensation.

"I've been alive for a very long time Alexander. I know when people are lying to me." Magnus said in a low voice.

Alec's eyes flicked up from the sparks, which had turned an intense cobalt as they noticeably kicked up a few degrees, to Magnus' face.

Jace stared at the two of them, not sure if he was still the subject of the conversation. Magnus killed the sparks and dropped his hand, now looking up at Jace again.

"So does that sound fair to you, Morgenstern?" he asked a little coldly. Alec slowly dropped his hand to his side. Jace met his stare and nodded.

"So what's your question?"

Magnus crossed his arms and looked down at his glittery nails, portraying the image of unconcern. This was lost however, when he finally looked back up at Jace and fixed his gold green eyes on his face, and Jace could see the emotions flicker in their depths; hostility, defensiveness, and just a hint of anger, all masked by a light coat of icy stillness.

"Why do you hate Downworlders?"

Next to Magnus, Alec's eyes slipped closed as he mentally swore. Damn. That was a good question. Magnus Bane…what a messed up thing to do. Jace was basically screwed.

If he lied and said he didn't hate Downworlders, (and even Alec would know he was lying about that) then he wouldn't be following the rules of the deal and Magnus wouldn't help him. But if he did answer honestly…well then he was insulting Magnus to his face. Exactly what his father had done. Would Magnus really still help him after that?

Alec looked at Jace, who was looking at Magnus. The expression on his face told Alec that Jace was thinking the same thing Alec was. He knew he was screwed.

"Tick tock, Morgenstern. You have to answer for it to count." Magnus said with raised eyebrows.

Jace bit his lip and looked away. Alec willed him to think of something fast. But Jace wasn't saying anything. Alec watched as Jace's eyes closed and he felt a pang of hurt when his eyelids closed even tighter for a brief second, like he was in pain.

"I guess that's that." Magnus said as he pushed up away from the bar with his shoulders. "Not being able to answer is the same as not answering." Magnus glanced over at Alec before reaching behind him for his glass of blue alcohol. "Alec, don't be a stranger." he said in dismissal before striding past Jace, who still had his eyes closed. Alec suppressed a sigh and turned to go to Jace, but stopped because he had opened his eyes.

"You said I had to answer honestly. And I'm trying to." he said without turning to Magnus. The warlock stopped and turned back around at the tone of his voice. Finally, Jace turned to face him as well. Magnus was surprised to see the look in his eyes.

"You asked me why I hate Downworlders…but all I can think of are the reasons why my father hates them."

Magnus watched him, noticing that Jace seemed to be staring at him blankly, lost in thought. "He says that they're untrustworthy, and manipulative. That they lie. That they'll stab you in the back the first chance that they get." Magnus narrowed his eyes; Jace said it all expressionlessly, like he was reading it from a book. Clearly, his father had drilled this into him.

"But really…that can be said of anybody." Magnus blinked slowly, starting to feel a thin thread of respect for him. Jace looked at him, finally seeming to see him.

"I wish I could say that I don't feel some…resentment towards Downworlders, but I do. I don't have the same view of them as my father and brother though. I understand that they aren't made for my amusement. And I wish I didn't feel superior. I really do. It's just difficult to forget something when you've been raised to believe it so ardently." Magnus shook his head and made his glass disappear with a small puff of smoke before walking the few steps towards Jace so that he was standing in front of him.

"Don't use that as an excuse. Just because you are taught to believe one thing, does not mean you have to believe it forever, or ever truly believe it for that matter. It's possible to have your own beliefs you know."

"I understand."

And as Magnus observed him, he saw a look in Jace's eyes that he was sure Jace had not meant for him to see.

His golden eyes hardened with determination in himself, and Magnus could not help but feel his earlier prejudices towards him fade. He should know better than to judge someone so harshly based on a name.

Even though it was obvious that in many ways, Jace Morgenstern was like Valentine, clearly, there was something burning bright in Jace that his father could not snuff out with his darkness.

"So," Magnus said with the darkly humorous grin of a conspirator, "Lets see that rune."


	16. Chapter 16

Jace looked up at the warlock quickly and Magnus could see the surprise flicker in his eyes. It was clear that Jace had been expecting to be disappointed. Magnus felt a fool for not truly grasping what it must feel like to have Valentine Morgenstern as a father. To say that it must be unsatisfying was a gross understatement.

"Really? You're going to help me?" Magnus shrugged apathetically.

"Like I said earlier, I'm bored." Jace looked at him with more wisdom in his stare than Magnus had thought him capable of, and even though he was sure that the blonde saw the traces of empathy in his eyes, he didn't comment on it. But when Jace didn't stop staring at him, Magnus cocked his head to the side and flashed his cat eyes at him like a flare in the dark. "You fancy I should reconsider?" Jace dropped his eyes.

"No." Magnus smiled.

"Well good. Just making sure we're all on the same page." he said as he walked past Jace over to the desk against the far wall.

Magnus settled himself behind it before beckoning the two Shadowhunter boys over with a careless curl of his finger. As they took their seats in front of the large desk, Magnus folded his hands in front of him and felt himself slip into what he liked to refer to as his 'business persona'.

"So let's see this rune."

Jace held out his left arm to him and Magnus took his hand lightly while snapping the fingers of his other hand once.

A haze of bright light suddenly formed over them like a mist and then Magnus leaned forward, his face forming a studious mask as his eyes ran over the black markings burned into Jace's wrist. He turned Jace's hand over, following the harsh lines of the rune all the way around to where they met over his pounding pulse. Jace looked up at Magnus as the warlock frowned.

"What is it?"

Magnus ran his eyes over the markings a few seconds more, noticing that in every way they gave the suggestion of imprisonment. No, 'suggestion' was too weak a word.

The severe lines did not suggest, they told, they promised. Even the design of the lines spoke of captivity for they encircled Jace's dominant wrist like a heavy black manacle.

And sensing what he had from Jace, Magnus knew that being bound to anyone against his will was something he was not prepared to tolerate. Sadness permeated Magnus' chest as he realized that Valentine would know this fact about his son better than anyone…which was why he had chosen to go to such extreme measures to bind the boy to him.

"So what can you tell us?" Alec asked finally. Magnus glanced up at him, still holding Jace's wrist.

"Well this isn't a rune from the Gray Book. I'm fairly certain that it isn't actually a rune at all." Jace frowned at him.

"What do you mean it isn't a rune? It looks like a rune." They all looked down at it again, and Magnus prepared himself to destroy the boy in front of him with the knowledge that he had sought to find.

"It's actually a spell. In a…demon language that I'm not too familiar with." Jace's face stilled so much that he resembled a statue of some golden, avenging archangel. It was Alec who answered.

"What do you mean, _demon language?_" he asked, his blue eyes burning. Magnus' eyes followed the dark lines again, still getting the overwhelming feeling of insidious intent from them.

"Well, I can't be positive…" he looked up and met Jace's eyes. "Did your father say anything about it when he applied it?"

"Just that it was a binding rune and that it bound me to him." Jace's eyes hardened with anger. "But he lied didn't he? Since its not even a rune…"

Magnus swallowed against the sudden dryness in his mouth. Wishing that he hadn't gotten out of bed this morning, Magnus clenched his teeth before saying,

"Jace, would you say your father is very pro demon?" Jace stared back at him with out blinking.

"Meaning what?" his voice had unintentionally come out sounding low and laced with threat. Alec twisted his fingers together.

"Meaning…is he on good terms with any?" Jace scoffed.

"He's a Shadowhunter-"

"And you're saying that he's your average, Law abiding Shadowhunter?" Jace glanced away.

"That's what I thought." Magnus paused, his voice becoming very serious.

"Jace, you wanted my professional opinion. And I can't be one hundred percent because I don't speak this language…but it seems to me that what this is…" and as he looked back up at Jace, at the boy's detached expression that was so carefully controlled, like he couldn't ever afford to show he was hurting, for the first time in a long time, Magnus wished his instincts were wrong…

"Is a binding spell, used to bind a person to a demon who is controlled by another person."

The room was so silent, Isabelle and Clary could be heard laughing from the other end of the house. Alec's eyes flickered with horror and his chest rose with a barely suppressed gasp as he brought his hand to his mouth in shock.

Magnus looked to Jace, who had not shown any reaction to what he had said. His face remained blank, his eyes like stone.

But Magnus could feel Jace's hammering pulse against his fingertips and knew that he was screaming inside.

"How can I get it off me?" Jace said with forced apathy.

Magnus released his hand before conjuring up three glasses and a bottle of brandy. They watched him pour two fingers of liquid into two glasses before he pushed one towards Alec and kept the other for himself.

Then he poured Jace's glass with three fingers full before sliding it over to him without meeting his eyes.

Jace stared at him so hard he was surprised that the warlock didn't catch fire.

Finally, when Magnus would not answer him, Jace reached out and downed his drink like it would stop the devastation that was wreaking silent havoc inside him. Magnus met his eyes when he set the glass back down on the desk.

"There. Now tell me whatever it is you think I can't handle." Magnus seemed to sag with regret and exhaustion, even though his rigid posture hadn't lessened.

"I don't know if I can get it off you." he said quietly.

Jace's eyes slipped down and fixed on the millimeter of brown liquor still in the bottom of his glass. Beside him, Alec downed his drink without so much as a cringe, his eyes looking washed out and dead.

"There isn't anything you can do, Magnus?" Alec asked in a low voice.

"Well if I had the book he got the spell from maybe I could figure out how to reverse it-" Jace glanced up again, his eyes bright.

"If I could find it and get it to you…" his voice hardened with determination and Magnus felt his faith being restored just in hearing it, "Do you think you could figure out how to reverse it?"

Magnus watched him, this golden warrior who had spent his life fighting enemies who should have been allies. Family members that have abused him, made him dependent on himself and untrusting of everyone.

Magnus was sure that just about anyone else would become a hateful, shell of a human being with a father like Valentine, and yet…sitting in front of him was proof that what doesn't kill you simply makes you all the more likely to be able to convince others to risk their lives in effort to help you.

The flamboyant Downworlder laughed and lifted his glass in a toast to Jace, an arrogant smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

"Did you forget whom you're speaking to, love?" his smirk broke into a smile, cat eyes glittering with confidence.

"I'm Magnus Bane."


	17. Chapter 17

Jace and Alec walked back down the hallway, and Jace felt that maybe, after talking with Magnus, there was reason to hope.

In his study, before marking him, his father had walked back to the bookcase but Jace, being distracted with Jonathan, hadn't seen what book he had looked at. He felt certain that it was still there; why would his father have a reason to remove it?

His mind still on his next impossible task, Jace nearly missed Clary and Isabelle, who were lounging on the couch in the living room.

He accidentally did a double take as he saw Clary pop a raspberry into her mouth from the tray on the coffee table. She looked up and met his eyes, smiling as she chewed slowly, the hot amused look in her eyes letting him know she hadn't missed his reaction.

Jace groaned inwardly. _That was smooth… _Isabelle smirked as she looked between them.

"So Jace, Alec told me you've never been to Alicante before. This must be your first time here." Jace sat down on the arm of a comfortable looking armchair as Alec leaned a shoulder against the wall nearby.

"That's right." Jace replied. Clary sipped her lemonade and looked at him curiously.

"I thought you lived in Idris your whole life though? Why are you just now coming to the city?"

Alec and Isabelle met eyes across the room briefly before quickly looking away. Jace, who hadn't missed this exchange, smiled before reaching down and taking a strawberry off the plate sitting on the table.

"I just uh…never got around to it I guess." he said before eating the strawberry. Knowing that more curious questions were bubbling up inside Clary, Isabelle intervened.

"So what do you think of it? Of Alicante?"

Jace leaned down and took Clary's glass of lemonade off the table, throwing her a simmering look before taking a drink.

"It definitely has its perks." he said with his eyes still on the redhead, his small grin making Clary's skin feel warm.

Isabelle laughed and hastily turned it into a cough, reaching for her lemonade. She smacked her lips together and looked next to her at Clary, her eyes brightening mischievously.

"Well, Clary here has been given the tour already, so I'm sure she wouldn't mind uh," her eyes sparkled, "Giving it to you, Jace." Alec rolled his eyes.

"Why can't you give him the tour?" he asked curiously. Isabelle looked over at him, her eyebrow raising ever so slightly.

"Because I'm tired. And so are you." She gave him a subtle 'back off' stare before smiling sweetly. Alec felt a flicker of annoyance but shrugged it off after a second.

"Yeah, thanks for letting me know." he said with slight exasperation.

Isabelle glanced back to Clary and Jace.

"So why don't the two of you go for a walk and Clary can show you some of the city? And Alec," she looked over at him again, "You can help me clear out some of the crap in the attic for the Penhallows." Alec scowled as he looked at Jace and Clary who had gotten up and started to walk to the front door, smiles on their faces.

"Oh goody." Alec said tonelessly. Jace looked back.

"See you later." he said as he closed the front door behind him.

Jace and Clary walked down the street side by side, the cool breeze brushing against their faces and leaving a lingering smell of Alicante on their clothes. Jace turned to look down at the redhead at his side, a small smile curving his mouth.

"So. Are you really gunna give me Isabelle's tour?" Clary looked up at him, her eyes lighting with the same playful iniquity she saw in his.

"No. I am gunna take you somewhere though." Jace smiled wider, liking this expression on her.

"Oh yeah? And where are you gunna take me?" Clary shook her head, making her fiery hair bounce.

"You'll see when we get there." Jace chuckled.

"You know, I've only just met you. It might be dangerous for me to just go following you off to some place I don't know. Who knows…you might try to have your way with me."

Clary turned her head slowly and gave him a narrow look. Jace laughed again. Clary shook her head, fighting the smile.

"It would be your own fault you know. Just walking blindly into what could be a dangerous situation." she said with an edge of sarcasm in her voice.

"Yeah, you're right," he glanced at her again, heat making his eyes smolder in the near dark. "But I'll take my chances." Clary blushed, and couldn't find a response to this.

Soon, they had approached a wooden bridge that arched over a stream that ran through the town. Instead of crossing the bridge, Clary led Jace down the worn steps to the bank of the stream just beneath the bridge.

Then she sat down on a stone bench that overlooked the water, her eyes peaceful with the calm that this area brought her. Jace sat down next to her, their legs touching due to the small size of the bench.

Jace watched the water flow by for awhile, knowing why she had decided to show him this spot.

Before long though, he could no longer keep his mind on the serenity of the nature in front of him, as the place where their hips innocently touched seemed to feel like it was getting hotter.

He wondered if his skin was getting warmer because he kept thinking about the pressure against his hip, and how he knew he wanted Clary to be even closer. Maybe they were both thinking about it.

"So what's your story?" he asked her in a voice that rumbled when it left his throat. She turned to look at him and he barely stopped himself from biting his lip and groaning. She was so close but not close enough; it was torture.

"My story?" he nodded.

"Yeah. You know," Jace smiled and gestured grandly. "About your life."

"Oh." she laughed before looking back out at the water. "Well, I live with my mom in New York."

"Where's your dad?" She paused.

"I don't have one." Jace told himself he must have imagined the slight hardening in her voice.

"I'm sorry." Clary smiled a little.

"It's okay. My mom and I have Luke. He's all we'll ever need in that department."

"Is Luke a Shadowhunter too?" Clary shook her head.

"Um no. Not anymore. Neither is my mom."

"So you're the only one? How does that work out?" Clary smiled grimly.

"It's a little rough at times."

"So how did that happen? Why did your mom decide to give up the life?" It was a minute before she answered him.

"Her husband, my father, broke her heart. So she didn't want anything more to do with him or any of the other Shadowhunters."

"Wow. That's rough."

"Yeah. She tried to keep me out of the life too but I guess she didn't count on me being as stubborn as I am. I'm not quite as well trained as other Shadowhunters my age since I had a late start, but I can definitely kick ass."

Jace turned to look at her, his laugh coming out quiet like a quick exhale of breath. She turned to look at him, her green eyes lighting up.

He tried to hide his smile, but seeing her incredulous and slightly angry expression killed his desire to.

"Oh what, you don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that." Jace smirked, his eyes drawn to the angry set of her mouth.

"Why are you laughing then?"

"I'm just uh…trying to imagine someone your size fighting…anything." he laughed again and her bright eyes narrowed. She suddenly stood up and turned to face him.

"Well let me help out your weak imagination then." she said as her slight body settled into an elegant fighting stance, her green eyes becoming fiery with challenge. Jace could only stare.

"You're kidding right?" She cocked her head to the side and a smirk pulled at her full lips.

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" Jace bit his lip, still grinning.

"You want to fight me?" she nodded and Jace laughed again, loving how her mouth pursed with indignant anger and how her eyes flamed with the desire to prove him wrong.

He couldn't help but provoke her more, not when it was so easy and she made it so unintentionally worth it. Jace leaned his hands back on the bench behind him and fixed her with a wicked stare.

"Oh please. You're about as threatening as a hamster. Now if I was a tiny piece of carrot, then I might find you formidable."

She shook her head slowly like she couldn't believe his audacity, and Jace looked back at her, tempting her with his eyes to go ahead and shut him up if she could manage it, his mouth quirking because he knew that she knew he wanted it.

And then Clary smiled. Jace's breath caught as she flicked her eyes down his body before turning away from him.

"Chicken shit." she said over her shoulder, her hips swaying as she started to walk back to the stairs. Jace was suddenly in front of her and she gasped at how fast he was. His eyes lingered on her mouth.

"You were saying?" Clary's pulse quickened at his closeness.

"It's okay to be afraid. But I promise I won't kick your butt too hard."

Jace lowered his eye lashes, no longer able to keep staring at her tempting lips when such cocky words passed through them.

He settled back on his heels, slipping into a neutral fighting position.

Clary felt the change in his body language more than she could see it, and for some reason, this only heightened the attraction she felt towards him. Jace looked back up and met her eyes.

"Do your worst, hamster." he taunted.

An annoyed sound grumbled from Clary's throat as she raised her loosely clenched fists like a kick boxer and glared at him.

Jace suppressed the groan of unadulterated attraction he felt. _This is going to be a very short fight…_ he predicted.

Clary suddenly swung at him and he side stepped her, catching her wrist and spinning her body so that she twirled like a dancer. He laughed and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Pretty. But I was kind of looking forward to watching you attempt to show me those ass kicking moves you were bragging about."

Without saying anything, Clary whirled at him, her fists flying at his face, chest and stomach. He blocked every hit, laughing as he stepped back away from her.

Clary spun on her heel and swung her leg up in a graceful kick to his head.

Jace ducked her foot completely, dropping down to the bank and scooping up a handful of sand before lightly throwing it at her side with a playful grin.

"Stop it now before I scream rape." he said. Her face broke into a smile that made his chest hurt.

"No one could hear you from down here." she panted, still throwing punches.

She continued trying to get past his defenses with determination and Jace idly wondered what would happen when she had him backed against the wooden posts of the bridge.

Soon enough, he got his answer. His back pressed up against a thick wooden beam and she didn't stop attacking him.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked furiously.

The girl was so attractively stubborn. Jace could take no more.

He grabbed her wrists and brought his arms down and back towards the beam behind him so that she was pulled up against him.

"You win; I forfeit." he said before leaning down and capturing her mouth with his.

Clary made a surprised sound against his mouth before her body leaned into his without another second of resistance, her hips pushing him back even harder.

A groan rumbled in Jace's throat; this was the taste of closeness that he had wanted.

Their kiss deepened when suddenly Clary bit his lip, hard. He winced, a surprised breath hissing through his teeth as he pulled away to look at her.

"That was for calling me a hamster."

His smile dazzled her. She pulled her wrists free and went for that gorgeous gold hair, her excitement not letting her only run her fingers through its silkiness like she had intended.

Clary's fingers tightened and she used the grip she had on his hair to pull his mouth back down to hers.

He responded to her enthusiasm by running his hands down the length of her back, by forcing her lips to open beneath his own.

Soon, their combined body heat had Jace amazed that the bridge above them was still standing and not up in the flames that he felt between them.

Just as he thought this, Jace heard a voice that doused the flames quicker and more effectively then ice water.

Jace gasped and pulled away from Clary, his heart thudding painfully fast.

"Jace, what-"

"Shh," he said quickly before looking up at the bridge that arched above them. Clary remained silent because of the look on his face.

Two pairs of footsteps stepped onto the wooden planks of the bridge, and the voice that had shot through Jace more painfully then a bullet spoke again.

"The Clave meeting is moved back; I don't know why they couldn't have just sent someone to tell me. Ah well."

Valentine and Jonathan stopped directly above them, and Jace looked down at Clary before slowly bringing a finger to his lips.

Then they both stared back up through the spaces of the bridge.

Valentine's eyes narrowed as he stared out at the stream.

"But I suppose the trip here wasn't for nothing…" he said slowly. _Oh God, no. _

Jace looked away from his father, praying with everything inside of him that Valentine hadn't felt him watching him from where he was standing beneath the bridge. Then Jonathan laughed.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Nothing like reminding the Circle of our priorities…Blackwell's death will ensure that the consequences of disloyalty aren't forgotten."

Relief struck Jace so hard he felt dizzy. He silently let out the breath that he hadn't been aware that he was holding as Valentine turned to Jonathan again.

"I shouldn't have to remind them. What happened today is nothing to laugh about."

Jonathan lowered his eyes at the reprimand and Jace ducked and yanked Clary out of sight with him behind the wooden post.

"Did you hear that?" Jonathan asked.

Behind the post, Clary and Jace were on their knees in the sand, and Clary was digging her nails into Jace's forearm, a look of fear on her face.

She didn't even know these people. But if this was how Jace reacted to them…they were people she should be absolutely terrified of.

Jace didn't seem to be feeling Clary's fingernails gouging into his forearm.

He had his eyes closed, his hand braced up against the post with an expression of waiting for the gun aimed at him to blow him away.

"I don't hear anything."

Jace opened his eyes and let out the smallest gasp of relief; so quiet it sounded like a breath.

"Come on, Jonathan, time to get back; who knows what your darling brother's been up to this whole time."

And with that, Valentine and Jonathan walked away off the bridge, their footsteps pounding over the wood. When it was silent again, Clary exhaled.

"Wow. I feel bad for the brother…" she said as she shook her head.

Jace looked at her, his eyes hard, but she was too busy looking at the deep claw marks that she had made in his forearm. Jace stood up, pulling Clary up with him.

"I have to go." he said. She looked up at his face, worried because of his tone.

"Well are you okay?"

"Yeah." _For right now. _She didn't look convinced.

Jace leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to her lips.

"Tell Alec I said thanks for everything." he said as he turned to begin the insane task of discreetly following his hyperaware family in an effort to somehow make it back to the manor house before his father realized he was not there.

"But wait, he's probably gunna wanna know when you'll be coming by to see us again. And I wouldn't mind knowing either." she said, her eyes lighting up again slightly.

Despite knowing that he was facing almost certain hell when he got home, Jace smiled. The smile was sad though, and his golden eyes were uncharacteristically dull.

"Tell him…I'll see him when I see him." he said quietly.

And as he jogged away up the steps and off into the direction his family had gone, with a feeling like he was running towards the rope that was going to hang him, Jace felt almost certain that he wouldn't be seeing Alec, not after Valentine found out what he had been up to this whole time


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks to everyone who's R your comments are such a big part of what keeps me writing this =) I appreciate any and all feedback and I wanna thank my regular commenters. You know who you are! You guys are the shiznit. Keep showing me love and I'll keep writing. Oh and heads up you guys...the story is about to get heavy. Get ready for it because its coming soon. ENJOY!**

Jace's boots made light, but audible sounds as he jogged down the darkened cobblestone street after Valentine and Jonathan. He frowned down at them, quickening his pace so that he was running, placing his feet down carefully until he moved as soundlessly as a shadow. He glanced up ahead of him, and seeing two blonde heads, threw himself sideways into the mouth of an alley. Jace pressed his back against the worn brick of the building and edged towards the corner of the wall to peek around and locate his family.

Jace cursed his overactive imagination, as he slowly peered around the corner, imagining that his father would be standing on the other side.

Jace laughed quietly as he saw them down the street, turning down a side road. Even Valentine wasn't that good. Jace slipped out of the alley and resumed his quick and silent pace, keeping out of the witch light streetlamps and in the darkest shadows.

He approached the side road, crossing rudely through someone's garden so that he could take cover behind their house and peer around its corner. Jace's hand slipped around the edge of the house as he slowly glanced around the corner, his eyes searching for the telltale blonde.

He saw Jonathan not more than three houses away; leaning a hip against a low brick wall with his arms crossed, looking arrogantly bored, like he had better places to be. Jace flicked his eyes away from his brother and searched for his father but did not see him, and figured he must have went into the house that Jonathan was standing outside of. Wondering what his father was doing inside the house and thankful he had decided to leave Jonathan outside of it so Jace could find them, Jace relaxed slightly.

He knew that he would still have been able to find them if Jonathan had accompanied him inside…but the way that things had turned out just made things easier for Jace.

Peeking into the windows of the homes of Shadowhunters at night was never a wise move to make, especially if his father was inside one of them.

Jace could only compare it to playing Russian Roulette by yourself; you may or may not have your head blown off with the next window you peeked in but no matter what, eventually, the gun was going to win the game.

Jace's eyes were drawn back to his brother as Jonathan turned and boosted himself up onto the wall, apparently tired of standing. Jonathan leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and held his face in his hands, still looking bored but no longer arrogantly so.

Due to the relatively close distance and Jace's superb eyesight, he could see his brother's expression. Jonathan was staring down at the bushes a few yards in front of him, and a slight frown crossed his face. The bushes moved slightly, and Jonathan's eyes seemed to get darker.

Jace heard a very faint mewling, and his heart stuttered as a small, black kitten stumbled out of the bushes. Jonathan narrowed his eyes at it.

The kitten mewled again, its voice high with how young it was, before it tramped over to him, tripping awkwardly over its own feet. It stopped in front of Jonathan, looking like a black ball of silky fluff with huge ears and ridiculously big green eyes.

Jonathan titled his head to the side as he stared down at it. _Run now…_Jace thought.

The kitten was foolishly young; it did not seem to sense the predator in front of it, only recognizing Jonathan for a human that had the potential to play with it. The kitten looked down at Jonathan's feet before wiggling its rump and launching itself at them with horrible aim.

Jace clenched his hand on the wall so tightly his knuckles turned white, convinced he was about to see his brother stomp the kitten to death.

Jonathan stared down at the black kitten that was now sitting on his boot, trying desperately to overpower it though Jonathan was not moving at all, with a look of such coldness in his eyes Jace was amazed that the cat was not a chunk of ice by now.

The kitten rolled to its side and dug its little claws into the material of his boots while using its back feet to kick at it ferociously, clearly thinking that it would be the death of Jonathan's foot.

Jonathan smiled slightly, his eyes glacial, and leaned down, his hands braced on the wall on either side of his hips, and as he made the motion, Jace had the image of him taking the cat in his hands and breaking its neck, that smile still on his face.

But then Jonathan did something Jace never would have expected in a million years; he wiggled his foot.

The kitten mewled and renewed its assault on his boot with determination, now biting the toe with tiny white teeth.

And Jace never would have believed it if he hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes, but a crooked grin broke Jonathan's cold expression as he looked down at the tiny black kitten that was attacking his foot with all the ferocity of a mountain lion.

Just as his hand moved like he was going to reach down and pet it, Jace heard the deep laugh of his father from inside the house, accompanied by a chorus of sycophantic cackles from the Circle members inside.

Jonathan's grin disappeared as his head turned towards the house and Jace saw his hands clench the edge of the wall he was sitting on. Then Jonathan turned back to look down at the kitten, who had looked up at him and mewled again, wanting him to wiggle his foot more.

Jonathan smiled at it and Jace swallowed; usually Jonathan only reserved that particular smile for him.

Jonathan leaned down, his chest touching his knees, and peered down at the kitten with the same 'I hate you so much' smile still stretched across his face.

"Kitty, kitty?" he cooed at it.

The kitten rolled over and stood up on his boot, stretching its face up at Jonathan's and meowing in response to the boy's tone.

Jace leaned his head against the wall and groaned lightly. _Poor stupid thing…_It had no idea Jonathan was mocking it.

"Come here, kitty, kitty…"

The kitten stood up on its back feet, placing its tiny paws on Jonathan's leg, stretching its little face up towards his. Jonathan watched it for a second, dancing on his foot in an effort to be closer to him.

And then he looked into the ridiculously big green eyes, eyes that would surely melt his pathetic brother's heart, and hissed loudly, injecting so much venom into it that it didn't even sound human to his own ears.

The kitten launched itself backwards away from him, a startled hiss escaping its throat before it took off back into the bushes, but not before Jonathan had seen the look of animalistic fear in its eyes. It would think twice before running up to play with another human…not that _he_ was strictly human…

Jace frowned in confusion as he watched his brother run his hands up over his eyes, watched as his shoulders sagged like a weight was crushing down on him.

_What was going on? Did he really feel bad for hissing at a cat? _Jace edged closer to the corner of the house, staring at his brother more intently.

Valentine laughed again loudly from inside the house, and Jonathan's hands slipped up and gripped his blonde hair tightly, his dark eyes staring at the ground with such intensity, but Jace knew he couldn't really be looking at anything.

Jace knew that look. He was the fucking poster boy for that look….

Jace didn't know what to feel as he watched his brother sitting there, looking like he was being ripped apart slowly from the inside out…

But there was one thing that Jace did know, and he knew it with a stone cold certainty: his father was the one responsible for the tortured look on his brother's face. Valentine was the one that was slowly ripping Jonathan apart from the inside out...

Just then, Jonathan glanced up quickly, releasing his hair and looking ahead of him down the street, his angry eyes moving through the dark searchingly.

_Shit! _Jace ducked back behind the house quickly, his heart pounding.

Jonathan saw movement out of the corner of his eye, about three houses away and across the street, and he turned his head towards the brick house with the fancy garden.

His eyes raked the corner of the house, the area where he had seen the movement, and they narrowed when he saw a patch of tulips, two of the flowers still swaying with motion.

Jonathan slid off the wall soundlessly, his hand slipping the knife out of his belt.

Jace, his back pressed against the brick of the house, tried to slow his pulse. Maybe Jonathan hadn't seen him. And if he did…maybe he would think it was another cat…

Jace exhaled soundlessly and rolled his eyes up towards the darkened sky; he never did get by on 'maybes'. You needed something a little better than bad luck to manage that.

Jace looked towards the corner he had just vacated. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the flowers he had been standing in slowly flutter to a standstill.

He cursed silently before quickly turning to face the wall. Raking his eyes up the brick, Jace took a few steps back before running at the house and jumping, his hands reaching up for the high window sill.

He heaved himself up quickly, placing a foot on the sill, hoping the people inside were fast asleep, before stretching up and grabbing the edge of the roof top. It was high but Jace could manage it.

Standing on the tips of his toes, Jace pulled himself up, a quiet breath of effort escaping his mouth because he couldn't use his legs for fear of accidentally kicking out the glass of the window.

As Jace rolled onto the roof of the high house, breathing slowly around the burning in his arms and abs, Jonathan slipped around the edge of the house below him.

His eyes flicked around at the footsteps left in the garden and noticed that there were no footsteps that led out of the flowers.

Jace heard the quietest rustle of grass over the edge of the roof and bit his lip to keep from swearing out loud, knowing that it was his brother.

Jace rolled slowly over onto his stomach, his hand holding his seraph blade against his hip so that it would not scrape against the shingles. He pushed himself slowly up onto his hands and knees, and crept across the roof, his shoulder blades moving languidly through his shirt with the grace of a stalking lion.

Jace, looking ahead of him towards the chimney, missed the broken shingle in front of him. His careful hand came down on it and it cracked loudly, making Jace wince and stop moving.

Jonathan slowly looked up at the edge of the roof.

Somebody was up there. Somebody who was very fast, and very quiet…

A smirk pulled up Jonathan's mouth and his obsidian eyes glinted though no lights were around to reflect off them.

But not that quiet. Never _that _quiet.

Jonathan slipped the knife back into his belt as he took a few steps back and launched himself at the edge of the window sill.

Jace stood up in a crouch and hurried across the roof as quickly as he dared, watching out for more traitorous broken shingles. He stared at the house next door, knowing that he could leap across the distance that separated them but not knowing if he could do it without Jonathan seeing him.

His brother may have heard him, but he still hadn't seen him. Not all was lost yet.

Just as Jace was debating whether or not he should risk jumping he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

Whipping his head, Jace saw hands clenching the side of the roof and the very tip of a blonde head rising up over the edge.

Jace sprinted to the chimney and ducked behind it with a silent speed that would have the toughest mundane crossing themselves in fear.

Jonathan pulled himself up onto the roof, surprised to feel the ache in his muscles at the climb. His father wouldn't be happy to know about that.

Rolling onto his feet, Jonathan searched the roof with a quick flick of his eyes. He had definitely heard someone up here.

And he knew of only one person who could get up on this roof as quickly as it took Jonathan to jog across the street. And to do it with almost dead silence?

Jonathan pulled the blade back out from his belt.

His brother was here. He knew it. And catching Jace and showing him to their father would make Valentine forget completely about his earlier comment about Blackwell…Jonathan smiled. All would be forgiven.

He walked across the roof slowly, not bothering to keep his footsteps inaudible. He looked over at the chimney; he knew that Jace knew he was there, and he hoped that Jace knew that he was about to get caught and that Jonathan was going to be the one to hand him in.

Jonathan looked down at the broken shingle, stepping on it lightly, purposefully making noise to increase the suspense, reminding Jace that he was the mouse while Jonathan would always be the cat.

Jace pressed his back against the chimney, knees drawn up to his chest, waiting for Jonathan to say something smart ass and cocky about him hiding, and just when Jace was about to stand up and show himself, he heard a door open and loud voices echo from across the street.

Valentine's voice stood out among them and Jace heard Jonathan walk across the roof. Jace crept backwards, his brother only a few yards in front of him. All he had to do was turn and he would see him…

But Jonathan didn't turn. He was staring out across the street at the house he had been standing in front of. Jace watched as his shoulders tightened.

Jace took his distraction to creep away to the edge of the roof.

"Where's my son?" Valentine's deep voice could be heard from across the street.

"Fuck…" Jonathan groaned quietly. Then remembering why he was on the roof, he whipped around. There was no one behind the chimney.

"Jonathan!" Valentine called, and anyone who really knew him could hear the anger in his voice.

"Dammit!" Jonathan swore as he slid his knife back into his belt.

First the stupid cat and now this? How was he going to explain this to his father…Tell him he thought that Jace was following them so he had to climb somebody's house to catch him in the act? He was loosing it…Jace wouldn't come to Alicante…he was a little Angel Boy…Jonathan thought bitterly as he stepped off the edge of the roof, landing lightly in a crouch on the grass.

Jonathan kicked his way through the garden, effectively destroying the tulips, as he walked back to his father.

Jace, who was hanging onto the side of the house, watched him cross the street out of the corner of his eye, his arms starting to shake.

When he felt like it was safe to look, Jace glanced over, hidden in the shadows, at his father, brother, and another man. His father looked pissed for having to wait on Jonathan.

"Where were you?" Valentine asked, his eyes narrowed. Jonathan stopped in front of him.

"Nowhere. I got tired of waiting and went for a walk."

"Well now we're waiting for you, let's go." Valentine said with a glare before following the man around the low wall and into the alley.

Jace let go of the roof and dropped down to the ground.

_That was some shit…how come he believed Jonathan when he lied? _

Jace stood and darted across the street, peeking around the wall just in time to see Valentine shake hands with the man before he turned to go through a side gate back into the house.

Valentine then turned and stepped through the Portal that the man, well warlock, he corrected, had made, its light flashing brightly and chasing away the shadows of the alley.

After a second, Jonathan followed him into the Portal and Jace was left alone.

He entered the alleyway, staring at the Portal, faced with a choice that would determine whether or not he would get caught.

The Portal back was right there, but should he take it?

If he took it, he risked portaling right into the room his family was in, and the whole point of this was to keep them in the dark about what he had been up to today. A nagging thought made him feel like maybe his life depended on it.

But if he didn't take the Portal…he would have to walk home. And his father would surely notice by then that he was not in the house.

The way he saw it, he had two choices; he could either stretch out the time by dragging his feet before the guillotine inevitably fell, or he could cut the rope that held the blade up and just make it quick.

That was the problem though…Jace thought as he ran his hands through his hair. He knew it wouldn't be quick.

He knew that the guillotine's edge would be dull, that it would be pulled back up and dropped on his neck again and again and again while he choked on his own blood and begged for it to stop, begged for the release of death.

But it was inevitable. He had to get that through his head.

So, what it all really came down to, was if Jace was man enough to step through the Portal and just get it over with.

The Portal started to flicker and fade, and Jace stepped forward before it vanished, thinking of the Morgenstern Manor.

As the light blinded him, a grim smile curved his mouth as a dead feeling passed through him.

_Just get it over with? _he thought, _Just get it started._


	19. Chapter 19

Jace was thrown into the study but he landed gracefully on his left foot, looking down at it because he didn't want to raise his eyes and see the rest of the room yet. It was silent. But that meant nothing. Jace slowly lifted his eyes.

And felt so dizzy he actually swayed sideways into the glass cabinet next to the Portal.

Neither his father nor his brother were still in the room.

Jace stood up straight and closed the door to the Portal quietly, amazed at his unusual good luck. He could still mess this up though. No doubt his father was looking for him right now.

Jace sped across the room soundlessly and peeked out into the hallway. The coast was clear. Now where would they first look to find him? His room most likely. So Jace headed in the opposite direction, stopping before each open door way and peering cautiously inside before hurrying on.

Where could he even go? Not out to the barn…it was too far away. He couldn't go any where that would seem odd for him to be in, like the weapons room; he never usually went in there unless he was getting something for a session and that was rare because Jonathan usually dealt with that. So where could he go?

And then he knew. A smile flashed across his face but faltered as he realized he'd have to pass Jonathan's room to get there.

Creeping up the stairs to the second floor, Jace eyed the open doorway of his brother's room.

His eyes then flicked down the long hallway to the large double doors that were his target. If he could manage to avoid Jonathan in Alicante by scaling a rooftop…surely he could avoid him in their own house.

_Don't get cocky… _his inner voice warned him as he started to creep towards the open doorway, seeing a shadow of somebody inside the room.

Jace told his inner voice to shut up as he neared Jonathan's bedroom and carefully…carefully, peeked inside.

Jonathan was standing in profile to him, his head turned away from the door, a clean shirt in his hands. Jonathan tossed the shirt on his bed, his eyes hooded with exhaustion.

Then Jonathan pulled his shirt up, and Jace prepared to dart across the doorway as soon as it was over his face, but stopped when he saw the black marks that swirled over his bare chest.

Remembering he had only seconds, Jace crossed in front of the open doorway and continued silently down the hallway, his heart pounding with what he had just seen on his brother's skin.

Jace opened the right door of the library and slipped inside soundlessly, peering behind him to see if he had been noticed.

The malignant marks that circled Jonathan's heart, so like the marks that circled Jace's wrist, was thrown from his mind as he saw a large shadow coming up the stairs; a shadow with hulking broad shoulders.

Jace quickly shut the door and ran across the library to the arm chairs in the corner, grabbing a book off a shelf at random and flipping on a table lamp before throwing himself sideways into a chair, his long legs dangling over the arm.

He had just opened the book, which had turned out to be Wuthering Heights, Jace cursed silently, when the door of the library opened.

Jace did not look up, pretending to be engrossed in the book, when the door shut and slow footsteps crossed over to him.

"There you are. Didn't you hear me calling you?" Valentine asked, his loud voice echoing in the large quiet room.

Jace counted to three before flicking his eyes up over the cover of the book.

"Hmm?" he asked. Valentine made a grumble of exasperation in his throat.

"Never mind. Your brother and I are home now." Jace looked back down at the book and flipped a page idly.

"So I see."

Valentine narrowed his eyes and walked over to stand in front of him.

Jace tried to make the neat words on the page make sense but they all just looked like the meaningless black scribbles of an illiterate.

Valentine's hand reached out and tipped the book up from the bottom with his finger so he could better see the cover. A low laugh rumbled in his chest.

"Wuthering Heights?" he asked mockingly.

Jace shifted his shoulders more comfortably in the chair, his jaw hardening defiantly without him meaning it to. Valentine laughed again.

"I suppose you relate to Heathcliff don't you? He finds his true love and it destroys him. He's obsessed with her even after she's gone. To love is to destroy Jace; this book is proof." he said patronizingly. Jace smiled stiffly.

"Yeah, I suppose I do relate to him. But more so for his thirst for revenge than for his love of a girl." he looked up and met his father's eyes.

Valentine's own eyes glittered with humor. _That's right, Angel Boy. You just keep fanning that fire in your belly; I'm gunna need it. _

"Goodnight, Jace."

"Goodnight, Father."

And with that, Valentine left the library.

For over a minute, Jace could do nothing but sit there and stare at the closed library double doors, waiting for his father to come back in and explode like an atom bomb.

But when absolutely nothing happened, Jace's head dropped back against the arm of his chair and a loud sigh of relief escaped his lungs. The hand holding Wuthering Heights slipped off his stomach and fell to the floor and Jace could do nothing but smile up at the high ceiling in amazement.

He had actually gotten away with it. All of it. He couldn't believe it.

Jace swung his legs over the arm of the chair and stood up, the grin still tugging up his mouth as he strode over to the book case and slipped the book in his hand back in its spot.

"I gotta say Father…you're loosing your touch." Jace said wickedly before he went to turn off the lamp.

As he walked back through the darkened library to the doors, Jace lazily trailed the fingers of his left hand along the spines of the books in the shelves, feeling like he could do just about anything.

Suddenly Jace stopped, his fingertips still brushing the spine of a book. Jace looked down his arm at the black markings that darkened the pale skin of his wrist.

He wasn't finished yet. He still had to get the spell book for Magnus.

And since he seemed to have unusually _amazing _luck tonight…why not take advantage of it?

The way he figured it, the world was finally being set right and he was being given a break for once. It was about damn time too…

So Jace left the library, quietly walking down the hall past his brother's now closed bedroom door and down the stairs to his father's study.

As he neared the open doorway, his instincts gave a little flicker of warning. _Don't push it…_

Jace slowed and stopped outside of the study, a frown crossing his face. He pushed away the feeling and peeked into the room; his father wasn't in there.

Jace grinned and slipped inside, closing the door behind him quietly and telling himself that he was just being paranoid; his father had already said goodnight.

The foreboding feeling rose up again as he crossed the room to the book shelf at the back and this time Jace told himself he would be a fool for wasting an opportunity like this.

His eyes skimmed the spines of the books, not quite knowing what he was looking for.

Then he saw a dark green cover that had the same kind of markings on it that his wrist held.

Jace's heart pounded excitedly as he pulled it out and started flipping through the pages.

He knew that he couldn't take the whole book; his father would surely notice that…so he'd have to find the page the spell was on and sent that to Alec by fire message.

Jace tore out a blank page from the front of the book before continuing to flip through the various spells in the dark green tome.

Jace cringed at the pictures that were below some of the instructions. There was some nasty magic in here…

Jace flipped faster, feeling a churning in his stomach when he finally saw a bracelet of what looked like runes being burned into someone's arm.

An illustration of a shadow with dark red eyes and clawed hands was leaking out of one of the runes and as Jace stared at it, cold sweat ran down his spine.

Before he could dwell on it anymore, Jace tore the page from the book and slipped it quickly back into its place before folding the page into a tight square.

Jace looked around the bookshelf and spotting a pen, he pulled the blank piece of paper towards him and began scribbling a hasty fire message to Alec.

Then folding the two pieces of paper together, Jace pulled open the small drawer of the bookcase and dropped the pen inside, the note now a small square held tightly in his left hand, when his heart thudded painfully and the small hairs on the back of his neck rose up.

Jace slowly pushed the drawer shut and discretely slipped the note into his pocket.

"Find what you were looking for?"

Jace's eyes slipped closed.

He slowly turned around, placing his hands behind him on the edge of the shelf.

Valentine was standing at his desk, not looking at him, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He brought the crystal up to his mouth and took a drink before flicking his dark eyes over to Jace.

"I thought you were asleep." Jace said.

Valentine smiled and stared at him, his face resembling a pale mask with dark holes cut out for the eyes. Those eyes glittered as he slowly started to approach Jace, the glass of scotch held lightly in his hand.

"I'm not." he said without blinking.

Jace knew better than to say something smart ass in response, which astonished him, since he was certain that he was pretty much the stupidest person in existence.

As Valentine closed the distance between them, Jace felt his fingers tighten on the shelf behind him.

The worst part of this was…he had no one to blame but himself. It was his own fault he was in this mess. He had been so close…and then he had to go and get cocky…

"So," Valentine said before draining the rest of his scotch and setting the glass behind Jace on the shelf. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Jace didn't answer. They were so close, Jace could smell the scotch on his breath.

Valentine chuckled and lifted his hand to Jace's chin, gently turning his face to the side and making him watch as he raised his arm and pushed a green book further back into the book shelf; it had been sticking out farther the ones around it.

Jace dropped his eyes, cursing his arrogant stupidity. Valentine let go of his face.

"Got bored of Wuthering Heights so quickly did you?" he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Jace tried to settle his racing heart.

"I was curious." Valentine narrowed his eyes.

"And what have I told you about curiosity?" Jace felt his eyes and voice go dead.

"It kills things." Valentine nodded slowly.

"It really does, Jace." he said quietly. Jace finally looked up at him.

"Well I knew you wouldn't tell me anything if I asked you… and I couldn't stand not knowing. You've also always told me that the only way to be a man is to be a master of your own body. How can I do that when there's something on my body that I don't understand?" Valentine considered him for awhile.

"So what did you learn?" Jace blanked his eyes.

"Not much. I don't speak the language…so this was all for nothing." Valentine blinked slowly at him before reaching behind him for his glass.

He then turned on his heel and went back to his desk, getting the bottle of scotch and another glass, pouring a healthy amount of liquor into both of them.

Valentine walked back to him and handed him the second glass and Jace took it, idly thinking that he drank way too much for a seventeen year old.

Valentine waited until Jace had taken a drink before speaking again.

"So what did you do today? Anything…exciting?" Jace looked up at him. He shook his head.

"No, not really. It was pretty dull actually. I practiced my aim…" he glanced down guiltily. "And went to the barn for a bit." Valentine watched him before shaking his head and downing the scotch in his glass.

"You and those damn horses…I don't pretend to understand." he said as he turned away from Jace to the fireplace. "Finish your drink and go to bed." Jace blinked once in astonishment before knocking back the rest of his liquor and setting the glass on the mantle.

"Goodnight, sir."

He then walked to the door as calmly as he could manage and just as he reached out his hand for the handle, it was pulled away and Jonathan swung open the door.

"Here you are; I've been looking all over." he said in an annoyed voice. Jace cocked an eyebrow. Jonathan stared back at him coolly.

"Gimme your seraph blades so I can put them away."

At the fireplace, Valentine was staring down into the flames meditatively, his fingers drumming a staccato melody on the mantle.

Jace slid his seraph blade out of his belt and handed it to his brother, hilt first, before starting to push past him.

"Wait, where's the other one? I gave you two this morning."

Valentine's eyes flicked up from the fire.

It was a second before Jace responded.

"Oh, it's probably up in my room." Jonathan scoffed impatiently.

"Well, uh, go get it. What do you think I am, your maid?" Jace sneered at him before pushing past him.

"Jace." Valentine said.

Jace and Jonathan both stopped and looked at him due to the tone of his voice.

Valentine curled his first two fingers quickly in the boy's direction, a nonchalant gesture that said 'come here'.

But Valentine was not looking at him, and there was nothing very nonchalant about the gesture. Jace walked slowly back to his side.

"Yeah?" Valentine stared into the fire for a few seconds, before a small smile curved his mouth.

"What all did you say you did today?" Jace frowned.

"I told you. I practiced my aim and was in the barn, then I did some reading."

"Its funny…" Valentine said slowly as he straightened up and turned to face his youngest son. "You say you were in the barns…but you don't smell like the horses."

Every excuse to explain why that was that came to Jace was a transparent one, so he kept his mouth shut.

"In fact, if I'm not mistaken…" Valentine leaned in, bringing his nose close to Jace's neck.

Jace had to fight his body to remain still. He heard the quiet inhale and then his father stepped back, his eyes dark. And then he chuckled.

"It seems that your curiosity is contagious, Jace."

Jace blinked at him, noticing how the firelight was dancing in his eyes.

"So tell me," Valentine said softly after Jace remained silent, "What did you think of Alicante?"

Over at the doorway, Jonathan's eyes widened. Jace flicked his eyes at the fire.

_No point in denying it…he shouldn't have tried to fight the inevitable. _Now whatever his father decided to do would just be that much worse because Jace had arrogantly believed that he was going to get away with it, more than once.

"Mm, so you don't feel much like talking about it huh?" Valentine asked in that same quiet tone, his eyes burning holes into Jace's face. "Well can I ask who you went to go see?" Jace glanced up at him.

"I didn't go to see anyone. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about." he said in a low voice. Valentine crossed his arms.

"Call me crazy, but for some reason, I just don't believe you."

Valentine took a step closer and Jace felt his heart slam against his ribs like it was trying to get away from him.

"Now, I'm only going to ask you this one more time. Who did you go to see?" he murmured in the voice that inspired fear in grown Shadowhunters. Jace looked up and met his eyes.

"A girl."

There was a long silence as Valentine searched his eyes, and it was the loudest silence that Jace had ever heard.

"A probable story. But knowing you, the real reason you went to the city is likely to just piss me off."

"I'm telling the truth; I went and saw a girl." Valentine cocked his head to the side.

"And I suppose the fire message in your pocket is to that girl?"

Jace swallowed as he looked down at his boots.

"Yes." Valentine smiled cruelly.

"Let me see it."

"No. It's private."

Valentine sighed and slipped his stele out of his jacket.

"Well you came here tonight looking for answers…and now you're going to get them."

Jace's head whipped up as Valentine grabbed his forearm and pulled him forward, touching the tip of his stele to the black markings that burned around Jace's wrist.

Jace tried to wrench his arm out of his father's tight grip as Valentine said a few words in a harsh language and then suddenly, everything went black.

He felt like he was being forced down a very tight tube, the walls suctioning to his body like an unbreakable plastic, his mouth and nose being covered with a suffocating thickness. His arms were pinned down at his sides so tightly it felt like they had become molded together.

His lungs ached and his senses were cut off completely; the only thing he was aware of was the crushing darkness. Just when he felt like he was going to lose his mind, the tube seemed to burst and he was falling.

He hit something solid and he gasped air into his lungs with a desperation he had never felt before. A sickened groan escaped his mouth and then a shape fell upon him, a shape that was entirely too familiar.

The demon from his dream as a child was hovering above him, an insane smile stretching its horrible face. Jace rolled over to run from it but it laughed, freezing him inside his body.

_Remember me? _It asked with a voice that made Jace's flesh crawl. Then the demon reached out its hand, its fingers unnaturally long and bony, and touched Jace's forehead.

In his mind, Jace saw Alec Lightwood; tall with messy black hair and those deep blue eyes.

Jace saw Alec smile at him and drop his eyelashes, like they shared a secret. He felt the overwhelming feeling of brotherhood when he looked at Alec; he knew that he would give his life to save Alec's and knew that Alec would do the same for him.

And then suddenly a huge shadow swept up behind him and Jace called out to him, but no sound escaped from his throat.

The demon shoved its fist through Alec's back, and Jace saw his parabatai's eyes fly wide with shock and pain before he looked down at the long fingers that were sticking out of his chest gruesomely, soaked red with his blood and fanning out like some macabre flower.

The demon yanked its fist back out of Alec's chest and Alec crumpled to his knees, blood gushing out of his mouth. Alec tumbled sideways and his blue eyes sought out Jace's golden ones.

"Jace…" he choked, his hand reaching out for him.

Jace couldn't move to help him.

_Please stop…_Jace begged as he watched his first friend dying slowly in front of him, watched the light fade from his eyes, and be completely incapable of doing anything to ease his pain.

The demon appeared at his side before leaning down to speak in his ear, its burning eyes on Alec.

_Only you can stop it…just do what he says and it will all go away…_

Jace closed his eyes. _Okay, I will. _

And just like that, Alec disappeared.

The demon was gone, the soul crushing blackness was chased away and with a gasp, Jace opened his eyes and found that he was on his knees in front of Valentine, who was staring down at him with the coldest expression on his face.

"Still curious?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20...can you believe it? Thanks for sticking it out for so long. It's gunna be worth it I promise. And to all those who love it when Jace gets in trouble...well you'll see...and you won't be disappointed. As always, comments make my heart happy =)**

"Nasty little spell isn't it?" Valentine said as Jace struggled to catch his breath. "It shows you all the things that you couldn't bear to see in life… with vivid and dispassionate detail."

Jace clenched his teeth, trying to force the image of Alec dying out of his mind.

Jace groaned lightly in his throat, his arms wrapping around his stomach against the nausea; he swore he could still hear the sound of Alec choking on his blood, as well as the crunching, ripping sound the demon's fist had made as it broke through his skin and bones.

Jace gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing against the bitter taste in his mouth. Valentine laughed.

"Effective isn't it?" Jace glared at him, wishing he had the power to make things combust just by looking at them. "I'm curious…what did you see?" Jace lowered his eyes.

"Go to hell." he whispered. Valentine laughed again.

"Ah, Jace, you make it sound like that was my fault." Jace looked up at him again, his expression angry and incredulous. "Oh yes; that was your fault. If you had just listened to me, that never would have happened. And I suggest you listen to me this time because Jace…" Valentine reached down and raised his chin up again.

"If you refuse the same demand a second time…it gets _so_ much worse. So just give me the message, and you won't have to see your little friend again…" Jace pulled his face away from his father's touch.

"Fine." he said tiredly.

Then Jace slowly pulled himself up to his feet, his hand slipping into his front pocket as he did.

"You want it? Take it. She's not worth the trouble anyways."

With his heart racing, Jace crumpled the note in his fist, his right hand sliding down to his belt for his stele. Then he went to hold out his fist to drop the note into his father's waiting hand, but at the last second, Jace spun away.

He brought the stele up to the back of his hand and quickly scribbled the rune, feeling the paper in his hand heat up.

Valentine yanked him back around by his shoulder and Jace turned his hand palm up, showing him the paper that was now burning, a grin tugging up his mouth.

Jace shrugged at the furious look on his father's face.

"Oops." Jace said, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

Valentine stared down at his open palm and his eyes narrowed as the hand clenching Jace's shoulder tightened painfully.

Valentine slowly raised his eyes back up to Jace's, the note in his son's hand now gone completely, but not before he had seen the name of the recipient.

"Alec Lightwood?" he said in a whisper that made goose bumps erupt on Jace's arms.

Jace couldn't breathe. His father shook him.

"Alec Lightwood? That's who you went to see?" Valentine whipped his head over in Jonathan's direction.

"Jonathan! Do you want to explain to me how it is that Alec Lightwood is still alive?" Jonathan shook his head slowly, his eyes wide.

"That's impossible…he must have a warlock…"

Valentine's fingers released Jace's shoulder and darted down for his forearm.

A small groan sounded in Jace's throat at the tight, pinching grip that his father had on him.

Valentine slowly looked down at the black burns that cuffed Jace's wrist and horror rushed through Jace so strongly he felt it more than he felt the bruising hold his father had on his arm; Valentine had put two and two together.

Jace struggled to pull away from him, realizing that he had never wanted anything more in his life than to be away from his father at that moment.

Valentine only tightened his grip and yanked Jace back towards him, a look of controlled fury on his face.

"So there's that curiosity, kickin' up again…" Valentine smiled a smile that lacked any trace of humor and Jace felt his fingers go numb. "How _is_ Magnus Bane?"

Panic shot through Jace as he grabbed his father's hand, wrenching his thumb back as he yanked his arm down and out of his grasp.

Then he spun around and bolted from Valentine, thinking only of escaping the house.

"Jonathan, grab him." Valentine ordered sharply.

Jace spun towards the doorway and skidded to a stop.

Jonathan was already there, trapping him inside the room, an arrogant smirk pulling up his mouth.

"Come on, Jace. You didn't really think you were faster than me did you?"

Jace spun away from him, leapt over the desk and grabbed the handle of the door that hid the portal. Jonathan's weight was suddenly against it.

"Wrong. Try again." Jonathan taunted.

Jace shoved him sideways away from the doorway as Jonathan grabbed his forearm and swung him back into the desk.

"You're just so desperate to prove yourself to him aren't you, big brother?" Jace said as he viciously kicked out at Jonathan. His kick connected with his stomach and sent him crashing back into the expensive glass cabinet.

Valentine stood at the other end of the room, his large arms folded, silently watching the exchange with glittering black eyes.

Jace sprinted towards the window, leaping over Jonathan as he did.

He shoved the window up and barely braced his hands against the frame, peering down at the fall he was about to take, when a hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him back into the room.

Jace gasped when the hand tightened and pulled his head back roughly, expecting it to be his father.

"I don't need to keep proving myself to him, Angel Boy, believe me, I've done enough." Jonathan hissed in his ear.

Then he turned and threw Jace at the cabinet, effectively destroying it.

Jace fell to the ground along with the sparkling glass, and as he saw Jonathan approach him, he swore he could feel his father's smugness radiating from across the room like an exploded star.

Jace pulled himself up onto his hands and knees, cutting his palms on the broken glass as he did. Jonathan crouched down in front of him.

"Maybe you should start trying to though. Because honestly…" he lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret with Jace. "You're not doing too well in that department."

Jonathan's eyes lit up with amusement as Jace's lit up with hate. Then Jonathan smirked and stood up.

Jace felt a sharp pain in his palm and looked down at it. He then carefully pulled out the large piece of glass that had sliced into his skin when he fell and dropped it onto the floor next to him.

Blood oozed out of the deep cut and streamed down his palm like ribbons of hot, scarlet smoke before staining his fingertips.

As he was staring down at the red smeared on his palm, he heard slow footsteps crunching over glass coming towards him.

With something that felt dangerously close to resignation, Jace looked up at his father.

"Get up."

Jace got to his feet, leaving bloody handprints on the expensive hardwood floor.

Valentine looked over Jace's shoulder at Jonathan, who then grabbed Jace's arms and held them tight behind his back. Jace's eyes narrowed.

"Aren't you gunna pat him on the head and tell him what an obedient little dog he is?" Jace said venomously. He felt Jonathan's nails dig into his forearms a second before his brother whispered,

"I'd shut up now if I were you." Jace smiled without humor.

"If you were me? You'd know exactly why that's impossible."

"ENOUGH." Valentine said loudly, cutting off Jonathan. He stared down at Jace, trying to keep his anger in check. Jace, feeling reckless, smiled charmingly.

"What's the matter, Father? Are you angry?"

He was playing with fire and he knew it, but he couldn't make himself care at the moment.

Valentine's face grew glacial. A smart ass seventeen year old _child_ was trying to goad him. His own son. That only made it worse, made him angrier.

And Jace could sense it because he smiled a beautiful smile; ruined only by the utter loathing that flamed his golden eyes.

"Have you lost at your own, well thought out game, Father?" his son's voice had dropped down to a delicate and fluid tone.

"Are you worried that your last soldier is going to turn on you too? Everybody wants to know what it's like sooner or later, what the light tastes like, what it feels like. Are you worried that he's going to want to know too? I mean, light is such a seductive concept…addictive really. It just feels so good when all you've felt before is darkness…"

Valentine saw Jonathan frown out of the corner of his eye and refused to look at him. A slow smile spread across his youngest son's face.

"And what kind of angel would I be, if I didn't give him a taste of the light that you've tried so hard to keep him away from? Do you think he'd still be obedient after seeing what you really are? Do you really think he would still be your soldier if he could truly think for himself without your interference?"

Valentine felt rage simmer inside him as he saw Jonathan staring at him with a look of narrow mistrust. He focused back on Jace, who's grin had the sharp edge of a razor.

"Uh oh, Captain. I sense division in the ranks. You forgot soldier boys are dangerous didn't you? It must really get to you that I'm right. It must really make you angry that you pretty much handed me a loaded gun. You must have known I'd turn it on you…"

Valentine fought subtly against the desire to wrap his hands around Jace's throat and silence him for good.

He clenched his jaw tightly as Jace hooded his eyes and his smile became a malicious smirk. He tilted his head to the side slightly and stared up at him.

"Are you angry, Father?"

Looking down at Jace now, Valentine knew that he was no angel. No angel could ever smile like that.

Maybe Jace wasn't a demon…but thanks to him, he could never be an angel. Valentine had corrupted him far past the point of return.

Just what kind of monster had he created out of this boy with the angelic face and devil grin?

And then it hit him; he knew then exactly what he was dealing with. Valentine's face suddenly split into a smile that was identical to Jace's.

"No, Jace. I'm not angry. I'm vengeful." he said softly.

Jace's smile slowly disappeared and Valentine saw what he was hiding underneath his façade of bitter spite.

He reached out and took Jace's chin and turned his face up to the light, trying to soak up the oceans of despair he saw in Jace's golden eyes.

"And you…you're nothing but a broken angel. You'll never make it to heaven, Jace Morgenstern. Your wings can't carry you because of what you are, and there's no point in fighting it anymore because nothing you do will ever change it; _you are and will always be my son_."

He released his face, relishing in Jace's sick expression. Valentine straightened his jacket.

"And no son of mine is going to rebel and disrespect me like some mundane, angst ridden teenager. You forget you're a Morgenstern."

Jace raised his eyes back up to his father's, feeling them harden defiantly.

"Oh yeah? Well here's what I think of being a Morgenstern."

And then, with a feeling of throwing himself off a treacherous cliff with reckless abandonment, Jace spit at Valentine's feet.

Jace saw the look of blind rage that split his father's face and swore he had never seen a person look so furious in all his life.

He felt a brief second of glorious triumph for cracking his father's iron control before Valentine hit him in the mouth so hard even Jonathan stumbled backwards into the wall.

Jace spit blood onto the floor as Jonathan yanked him back by his arms so that he was facing their father.

"You _dare_ disrespect me like that? Have you any idea what you've just done, boy?"

Jace had an idea. He knew that people spoke of crossing lines…

Metaphorically speaking, if he looked back, the line of this situation would be a dot on the horizon.

Feeling like he had nothing left to loose, the corner of Jace's mouth seemed to tug up on its own in a wicked smile, showing the blood that stained the white of his teeth.

Valentine drew out a blade and pressed the point into his jugular.

"You think you've had it bad? Just wait. Soon you'll be _begging _for things to go back to the way they were. And do you know what I'm going to tell you?"

Jace flipped hair out of his eyes, ignoring the scrape of the blade at his throat.

"No?" he said in his ever present sarcastic tone.

Valentine narrowed his eyes thoughtfully before slamming the heavy hilt of the blade into the side of Jace's head.

Jace groaned as his vision blurred and he fell back against Jonathan, no longer able to remain conscious.

Jonathan struggled with his brother's weight before letting him slide down to the floor.

Valentine slipped the blade back into his belt and stared down at his son's closed eyes and the blood that darkened his hair and trickled down the side of his pale, innocent-looking face.

"Hell no."


	21. Chapter 21

When Jace next opened his eyes, he was aware of two things. One: his head was throbbing sickeningly and two: he was lying down on a small cot, with one wrist cuffed to the metal bed frame. He narrowed his eyes at the cuff before sitting up, the motion making the pain in his head double.

Jace closed his eyes to block out the spinning of the room, his hand coming up to hold the tender, aching spot on his temple, when he heard the door being unlocked.

The heavy metal door opened and Jonathan entered, carrying a tray in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Jace dropped his hand back down on the mattress, his eyes growing dark.

"Oh good, you are still alive." Jonathan said smugly, kicking the door shut behind him with a bang. "We got worried there for a second." he said in an ironic voice, his smile wide enough to bring out dimples in his cheeks. Jace slid his legs off the bed, turning to face him.

"Yeah, I'm sure you both were beside yourselves with panic." he said tonelessly.

Jonathan laughed as he approached him, setting the tray down on the table next to the bed. Jace looked down at it with disinterest. Pre-cut steak, potatoes, and green beans; not something you usually feed someone on lockdown. Jace flicked his suspicious gaze up from the food. Jonathan met his eyes.

"You should eat that." Jace cocked an eyebrow.

"You'd like that wouldn't you."

Jonathan smiled a little before reaching out and plucking a green been off the tray and popping it in his mouth. He chewed and deliberately swallowed, his eyes on Jace.

"See? It's just food. Nothing extra…no special ingredients. Father doesn't want you dead."

"Could've fooled me."

"He doesn't want you dead. Trust me." Jonathan said as he turned away, heading back to the door.

"Cause it's always been in my best interest to trust you…" Jace mumbled.

"Anyways, you should really eat that. You're going to need your strength." Jace blinked.

"Need my strength for what?" Jonathan stopped and looked back at him over his shoulder, a grin tugging up the corner of his mouth.

"You didn't really think that this was your punishment did you?" he said sinisterly before continuing to the door. Jace stayed silent. Jonathan laughed. "Like I said…you're gunna need your strength. Don't say I never do anything for you."

Jace rolled his eyes and looked at the wall. He was so maddeningly unhelpful.

Jonathan paused at the door, his hand on the knob, when a frown creased his face. He stood there, unblinking, until he could feel Jace's eyes on him.

"Why do you do it?" Jonathan asked in indecipherable tone. Jace narrowed his golden eyes.

"Why do I do what, Jonathan?" His brother dropped his hand and turned to face him, his expression very blank but his eyes hard and intense.

"Why do you make your life so much harder than it has to be?" Jace laughed on his exhale of breath, his eyebrow raising in disbelief at the question.

"You mean why do I rebel?" Jonathan crossed his arms.

"Yeah. Why do you do it. Why can't you just obey and make things easier for yourself?" Jace shook his head.

"I don't expect you to understand why I do the things that I do."

"Then explain it to me." Jace gave him a suspicious look.

"Why do you want to know." Jonathan paused, then smiled with the gleam back in the black depths of his eyes.

"Must be that contagious curiosity of yours." Jace rolled his eyes and looked away again at the whiteness of wall. Jonathan leaned back against the door. "So explain it to me. Because for the life of me I can't figure it out."

For a long time, Jace was quiet. This was so pointless.

Trying to explain right from wrong to Jonathan was like trying to teach Shakespeare to a pigeon. But what the hell, Jonathan said he wanted to know and he could always fly away when it bounced right off of him.

"Did you ever get the feeling…that something Father said or did was just…wrong?" Jace asked. Jonathan stared at him, not blinking.

"No." Jace scoffed.

"Why am I even wasting my breath?" Jace mumbled as he reached out for the bottle of water, finding savage pleasure in the crack the seal made as he twisted it.

"Okay, okay…" Jonathan watched as he downed the water almost as if finishing it would guarantee him peace and quiet. "_I_ haven't…but obviously you have."

Jace shook his head as he replaced the cap on the water and tossed it away from him.

"Yes, you have, Jonathan. You're just not admitting it or you've forgotten it…or he's made you forget it." Jonathan met his gaze and his eyes lit and seemed to sparkle with a dangerous black humor.

"Sure." was his quiet response. Jace glared back at him. Jonathan's dark eyelashes lowered slightly, veiling the amusement that glittered in his eyes like the bright sheen of oil in sunlight.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking that you and I are cut from the same cloth, Angel Boy. Just because you've had that feeling of wrongness around Father, doesn't mean that I have. Maybe you're the wrong one. Did you ever think of that?"

Jace didn't answer him. He stared down at a crack on the floor, his golden eyes glazed, with a brooding look on his face. It was a few long seconds before he spoke again.

"Do you remember when we were about six or seven…Father was gone away doing something for the Circle and we were here with the tutor?" Jonathan looked back at him with blank eyes. Jace continued.

"And we had finished all our assignments for the day and the tutor had fallen asleep. We stayed in our desks for awhile but then we couldn't take the boredom and the old guy's snoring…" Jonathan's expression was slowly becoming more and more stone like as he began to remember the time Jace was referring to.

"There was nothing to do…so we went out in the yard." Jace met Jonathan's stare, a small smile sweeping across his lips. "You remember what we did?"

Jonathan leaned his head back against the wall, his black eyes becoming dull and unfocused like he was seeing something else.

And Jace knew what he was seeing: two blonde Shadowhunter boys, running through the grass faster than they should be able to, leaping over stone walls, doing graceful back flips from the branches of high trees; with laughing smiles on their faces…two brothers playing together.

"We played tag." Jonathan said finally. Jace smiled.

"Yeah. You remember how much fun we had? How impossible it was for one of us to stay It for longer than thirty seconds?"

The corner of Jonathan's mouth twitched in an almost smile. Their abilities had been so evenly matched even then; but that's part of what made it so fun. They had to really try to catch each other. It had been challenging, but Jonathan could not remember another time when he had laughed so carelessly.

Jace watched his brother reminiscing, enjoying the peaceful expression he wore. He almost wished he could just leave him be because Jonathan so rarely ever looked peaceful. Part of him wished he wasn't about to say what he was about to say.

"We were out in the yard playing tag…and do you remember what happened then?" Jace asked, surprised at how much bitterness his voice suddenly held.

Jonathan blinked, and a small crease appeared between his eyebrows as he frowned slightly.

In his mind, he saw a seven year old Jace sprinting across the emerald green grass, sun light glinting off his hair, before he turned and peered back at him over his shoulder, a grin of challenge on his face and eyes bright with happy arrogance; even back then Jace thought he was the greatest boy alive.

But it was of no importance. In a few seconds, Jonathan would catch him and tag him and Jace knew it because he laughed louder and ran faster through the grass, delighted that he had suggested they play this impossible to win game.

They hadn't even seen him standing there. Hadn't heard him approach, hadn't felt his black, disapproving glare.

They were so absorbed in their game, it was like he was a part of the background. Thinking back on it now (the memory was acutely vivid for him), Jonathan wondered how they could have missed him, dressed in a sharp black suit, looking like a spot of soot on a photograph of somebody's perfect summer.

It wasn't until Jace suddenly changed direction and sprinted right at him did Jonathan actually see him. He had been so startled that he couldn't speak, couldn't warn Jace. Not that it would have done him any good.

Jace was running too fast. So fast…it all happened so fast.

Jace, looking back at Jonathan, slammed into Valentine and the force knocked him to the ground so hard it was like he had been struck by lightning. Valentine looked down at him and blinked, clearly not at all affected.

And Jonathan had finally slid to a stop in the gravel surrounding the grass, but lost his balance and fell when Valentine's black eyes flicked up from Jace to him.

Jonathan could remember the hot, burning pain of his skinned palms, could remember looking down at the blood that mixed with the dirt from the rocks and the torn skin that stuck up in pale, jagged peaks along his hands.

But when his father spoke, he forgot all about it…in fact he didn't think about his hands at all again after.

"What…do you think you're doing?" Valentine asked softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the birds and the wind whistling through the leaves of the trees.

Jonathan looked around him, squinting a little in the bright sunlight.

Surely, this was all wrong? A setting like this was supposed to be happy…like it had been a few minutes ago.

He looked over at Jace, who had rolled over onto his side and was holding his bleeding elbow.

If the situation had happened now, when he and Jace were both seventeen, he supposed Jace would look up at Valentine and say, real snarky, "Is that supposed to be rhetorical?" but at the time, Jace hadn't been the smart ass that he was now.

At the time, Jace was seven, and he looked over at his older brother with wide eyes that showed Jonathan the panic that he was trying to get under control.

"We were just playing." Jace said quietly, his golden eyes becoming dull as he realized just how angry their father was…

Jonathan pulled himself out of his memories with effort.

He glanced over at Jace and saw not panic and innocence in his eyes, but an anger that was so raw and primal that he had to look away, for he had begun to clench his jaw and felt the beginnings of a slow burning rage in his own eyes.

"And then what happened?" Jace repeated. Jonathan took a slow, calming breath.

"Father came home." Jonathan felt his brother's burning golden eyes on his face like they held fire.

"Was he happy to see us?" he asked, violence coloring his voice.

Looking over at Jace, Jonathan got the impression of a very pissed off lion in a cage.

Except Jace was more dangerous. He was the kind of lion that didn't make a lot of noise when he was angry. The only clue that you had was the furious stare he would give you but then he would deceive you with his relaxed body language. He just tricked you into getting close enough, made you think he was calm and under control, and that's when he would rip your face off.

"He was really mad."

"And?"

"And he punished us." Jace narrowed his eyes as his voice dropped.

"You remember what he did?" Jonathan flicked his eyes back up to Jace's, his face hardening stoically.

"Yeah. We had to kneel on those broom sticks."

"For how long?"

"About an hour." Jonathan said in an overly light tone. Jace cocked his head as his mouth twisted into a sneer.

"Do you remember the bruises? How we couldn't stand or walk after that _hour _was up?" he said it the way Jonathan had; lightly, downplaying it like it wasn't important. Jonathan's eyes darkened.

"So what? We've both dealt with bruises before…" he let his voice trail off and Jace caught the implied end of his brother's bitter but truthful sentence.

_And we both know that they aren't the worst that he can do. _Jace stared back at him, his hand clenching into an involuntary fist on the mattress.

_Yeah, you're right. But he's already done much worse than bruise us hasn't he? _

Jonathan looked away from Jace's cold stare, pretending he didn't understand when Jace knew that he had, and it only made him angrier.

Jace took a calming breath and fought against the urge to bring up the demonic marks he had seen on Jonathan's chest and make him admit that he knew what Jace's look had meant.

If he was going to do this right though, it would have to be done slowly and painfully,with one unjust cruelty at a time.

"So are you saying the crime fit the punishment?" Jace asked, his eyes traveling up the wall idly. Jonathan re-crossed his arms and stared at him with a narrow look.

"It doesn't matter. I don't question Father because I know my place." Jace rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah and you think I would do well to learn mine, look," he turned on the bed to face him, making the chain on the cuff rattle against the metal bed frame.

"We were punished like that for what? For playing. The tutor had fallen asleep and we had finished all of our work, it's not like we stopped what we were doing to go run around like little monkeys. I could see then why he would be mad. But we had finished and there was nothing to do…and what do kids do when they're bored? They go outside. They run around and play tag." he leaned forward intently. "_Jonathan, we didn't do anything wrong._ Don't you see that?" Jonathan smiled with out humor.

"Alright, if you know so much about it then why did he get so mad if we weren't doing anything wrong?"

"You know the answer to that." Jonathan seemed to sneer back at him.

"No, no, no. You supposedly know the inner workings of Father's head, so why don't you just spit it out? Go ahead and enlighten me, Angel Boy. Did he get so pissed because he was missing out on all the fun? Or was it because we were running on his grass? I'm betting it was because of the grass; it _was_ a remarkable shade of green and damn us to hell for running on it like lawless little bastards."

"God, Jonathan don't you see what he's doing to you? You're so mad and spiteful that you're starting to sound like me."

Jonathan blinked at him. _Ugh. He's right. Gross. _

"If that isn't proof…" Jace looked at his brother meaningfully. Jonathan pushed up off the door with his shoulders.

"No, all that means is that I've been in this room with you for too long and your stupid sarcasm is starting to rub off on me." he said as he turned angrily and reached out for the door handle.

"Wait. You wanted to know why he got so mad when he saw us, okay I'll tell you. It was just because we were playing, Jonathan. Honest to God, that's it." Jonathan stopped, his hand clenched around the handle of the metal door.

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would he get mad because we were playing?"

Jace's eyes filled with intense sorrow; a look that his brother didn't see because his back was turned.

"Just think about it for a second."

Jonathan exhaled heavily and dropped his head back as he looked up at the ceiling in an extreme version of an eye roll.

He let go of the handle and spun around to face his brother, his anger igniting like a struck match.

Jonathan was disarmed to see the complete open vulnerability in Jace's eyes. He had never been able to read his brother's emotions so well, or Jace had never allowed him to.

Looking across the room at him now, Jonathan could see the sadness in those strange golden eyes. And underneath that, unsurprisingly, was anger. And deeper still, underneath that, was pain. Jonathan frowned and Jace continued to look back at him, not dropping his eyes or hardening his stare to hide the emotions he knew were visible.

"Come on, Jonathan, you're not stupid. Why would Father be mad when he saw us playing together?" Jonathan blinked slowly, thoughtfully.

"Because he didn't want us to get along. Not like that anyways." A small flicker of something lit up in Jace's eyes.

"But he's our father. Surely any father would be happy that his sons were getting along and playing together?" Something was building subtly in Jace's voice.

"You'd think so." The flicker in his brother's eyes was getting brighter.

"But that wasn't the case. We were punished for playing, for doing what little kids are _supposed _to do…and our father punished us for it. We were getting along, having fun…actually being _brothers _for the first time Jonathan, and he came home, yelled at us, and made us believe that we had been doing something wrong. And did you notice, that after that little incident, we never played again? That after that we started to grow farther and farther apart? Then as we got older, the rivalry set in…" Jace's eyes darkened with shadows. "Then came the hatred…and voila. Here we are. Now it's so bad between us, everyday is bordering homicide. And did you notice Father's position in all this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, as he was driving us away from each other…where was he?" Jonathan felt his eyes growing cold.

"Right in the middle. Waiting with open arms." Jace smiled slowly, his eyes lit up with determination; Jonathan was finally getting it.

"But why? Why would he do that? Why drive us apart and make us hate each other? What's the thinking?" Jace asked quickly, knowing that the quicker he asked the quicker Jonathan would get there; his brain, like Jace's, was trained to work better under pressure.

"He didn't want us to be close. Because then it would be us and him. He probably figured later it would get to be us _against _him." _And he would've been right…_Jace thought.

"So he cleverly taught us to hate each other from an early age and made us dependent on him, that way it would never be us against him. It would pretty much just be him." Jace finished, hearing the acid that had slipped in his voice with the last sentence he spoke.

Suddenly Jace felt extremely tired, like he had aged sixty years in the past sixty seconds. He rubbed his eyes before running a hand through his hair, trying to keep it together for a little bit longer.

"So yeah, Jonathan. Sometimes the man does things that I don't readily agree with. Like, punishing us for being brothers. Call me out of line but that there, seems a little wrong to me."

Despite his fleeting and sarcastic tone, Jonathan could tell that Jace was actually upset. He realized that Jace used sarcastic humor to hide the fact that he was hurting…he couldn't believe he had just now figured it out.

"I get it." Jonathan said quietly.

Jace flicked his eyes up to his brother's black ones and for a moment it seemed that their color had darkened to match Jonathan's.

"Do you?" Jace asked before he clenched his teeth together so tightly his jaw ached. "Because there's a bigger picture, Jonathan. And it doesn't just have to do with me." Jonathan hooded his eyes but didn't say anything.

Jace took this as an invitation.

"I don't know if you've noticed this, but we're not really experiencing what most people would call a 'normal' upbringing."

"What do you mean?" Jace narrowed his eyes at him and raised his arm, making the chain that cuffed him to the cot jangle loudly.

"This isn't normal. Parents don't do this to their kids, Jonathan." His older brother blinked once in confusion.

"Then what's grounding?" Jace fought for his patience.

"Not this. This is what mundanes call child abuse. But you and I, we call it…detainment. We're so fucking desensitized to it all, Jonathan. This is normal for us but it shouldn't be. Parents don't literally lock up their kids. Even Shadowhunter parents, who don't live by the same rules. But our parent does. Why is that?" Jonathan raised his eyebrows.

"Are you really asking me or are you just ranting?"

Jace pinched the bridge of his nose, making his chain rattle again. When he spoke again, his voice was slower but no less intense.

"It's because we aren't kids to him, we never really were. You know what we are to him? He tells us all the time…"

Jonathan looked into the cold eyes of his younger brother, feeling a shiver of shock at how much icy hate they held.

"Soldiers. We're his soldiers."

Jace smiled bitterly and that smile paired with the coldness in his eyes made the familial resemblance so striking it made Jonathan uncomfortable. _Now he's been around me for too long…_

"Exactly." Jace murmured. "And you can lock up your soldiers when they disobey. Nobody has a problem with that. That's how he justifies it." Jace scooted back on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him and pressing his back to the wall.

"And what do all soldiers have in common? Even though they don't like to admit it or think about it?" Jonathan shrugged. Jace turned his head and looked at him, his eyes alight with dark humor.

"They're expendable, Jonathan. Easily replaced."

"You think Father would replace one of us?"

"Oh definitely. It might take awhile, because he would have to find some kid to steal and then train but yeah. I think he would."

"Why do you think that?"

"News flash, big brother: he doesn't care about us. Not like he should. You want proof, as if the past seventeen years aren't enough, then take another look at that demon spell he burned into your chest."

Jonathan's eyes widened in surprise; how did he know about that? Jace dropped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"I can only imagine what kind of sick shit you see because of his twisted demon spells."

Jonathan didn't reply. He wasn't going to mention that his burns were not like Jace's.

Jace didn't know how good he had it. He only had to see things when he disobeyed. He didn't have to deal with the whispering that kept him awake at night and the emotions that weren't his…but Jonathan was used to the darkness at this point. By now he considered it to be a part of him. And in truth, he sometimes found it hard to separate the demon's hateful emotions from his own.

Jace turned his head back to him and opened his eyes.

"We don't matter to him the way sons should matter to a father. And that's because he thinks we're his possessions. You know it's true. He talks like we're his weapons. Point and shoot; with no stray thought of us as he does it."

That tone was back in his voice, the quiet but intense promise of _something… _

It was dangerous, definitely fueled by his anger_, _and as much as he hated to admit it, Jonathan felt himself being drawn to it.

It sounded bitter, but at the same time righteous; like it was worth feeling and worth fighting for...Retribution was a toxic and fatally compelling concept...

"So what's your point?"

Jace looked over at him, his eyes glittering, and knew that he had his brother on a hook.

"So sometimes weapons backfire."


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey everybody so so so sorry that I haven't been updating…it's been waaaaay too long I know. I've been really busy with school and writing this book of my very own that I hope to get published sometime in the not too far off future but thank you to Half-Blood 101 who bugged me about getting on here again =) And of course thankies to my regular reader and commenters. I'm working on the next chapter (22) and I already have 23 completed but of course I can't post out of order so just hang in there I should have them up in a day or two. And I have ideas for chapter 24 too so woot woot =) it's about to get insane yo so you better get pumped lol okay just thought I would let you guys know what the dealio was. Oh btw, I'm like dying for Clockwork Prince and I know I'm not the only one…. -Dallas**


	23. Chapter 23

"It all makes sense now." Jonathan said in an enlightened voice, staring across the room at Jace. Jace smiled and exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"You have no idea how relieved I am that you understa-"

"You're just suicidal." Jace gave him an incredulous look.

"What? No-"

"No, no it does make sense. It has too. Because that's the only explanation I can come up with." Jonathan said as he walked away from the door towards Jace. "You want to rise up against_ Valentine Morgenstern_… the most feared Shadowhunter of the age, the man who taught us both how to kill demons with their own body parts and bones…and what's even better is that you want _me_ to join you in your little Kamikaze mission …"

Jonathan's voice had taken on a low, mocking tone as his eyes darkened to fathomless pits. He was now standing in front of Jace, who, sensing the underlying threat in his brother's posture had slipped back to the edge of the bed, eyes watching him warily.

Jonathan reached languidly down into his boot and was now grasping the handle of his favorite butterfly knife, and Jace had made no move to stop him because of how calmly he had done it. Jace only heard the metal of the knife as it flipped open; the flash of his brother's wrist was too fast for his eyes to follow.

Jonathan's eyes bore into Jace's with a deadly seriousness as he pressed the point of his knife into the flesh of his little brother's throat.

"If you wanted to die so badly Jace, you should have just told me."

Jace's eyes flicked down at his brother's steady hand. What had happened? He had _sworn_ that he had just had Jonathan a little bit convinced…maybe he just needed a little provoking.

_Oh that's always a good plan…_Jace thought acidly. _Taunt the known killer that has you at knife point…see how well that plays out… _But he had never been a boy that had much patience for caution and thinking things through…

Jace leaned his hands back behind him on the bed as he cocked his head to the side and smiled up at his brother, suddenly the poster boy for complete ease. Jace couldn't help but smile more at the confused frown that crossed Jonathan's face at Jace's complete lack of fear of him. Jace felt his eyes darken with cruel humor as he stared up at Jonathan.

"You know, it's okay that you're afraid of him big bro," Jonathan's eyes widened in angry disbelief. Jace bit back a laugh as he leaned forward, scraping his throat against the knife as he whispered, "Don't worry, it'll be our little secret." Jonathan seemed stunned speechless.

Jace pursed his lips thoughtfully before continuing, wondering how far he would have to push Jonathan, or how far Jonathan would _let _Jace push him.

"See, _you_ might be content with being Father's little lapdog bitch your whole life but not me-"

Jace had barely got the words out before Jonathan reached out and grabbed his shoulder tightly as he pressed the razor edge of the knife harder against his windpipe, using the grip he had on his shoulder as leverage in case he decided to silence the little prick for good…

"Shut up. Say one more thing and you won't need to worry about Valentine at all. The only thing you'll need to worry about is how you're gunna manage to talk back with slit vocal chords." Jonathan whispered through his clenched teeth.

_Well that didn't take much…._Jace thought. However, he hooded his eyes as a grin as sharp as the blade pressed into his throat pulled at his mouth.

"You sure talk a mean game for someone so whipped and pathetic. Father really broke the mold with you."

Jonathan's arm twitched, hard, as he visibly restrained himself from ripping the knife across Jace's throat. As it was, Jace still felt the stinging burn of the blade as it bit down into his skin and managed to suppress a wince at the pain.

"Come on, Killer. Let's see if you've really got it in you. Shut me up for good. You know you want to..." Jace taunted recklessly. Jonathan's eyes widened as he felt the darkness start to creep up at Jace's thoughtless provocation.

"Stop. Jace stop."

"Why? Cause you know Daddy will hate you forever if you kill his favorite soldier? We both know I always was his favorite…"

The blade slipped a few inches across his throat and Jace clenched his teeth to keep from gasping in surprise. What was even more surprising was the look in Jonathan's eyes.

"I said stop, Jace I can't-"

Jace reached up and grabbed his brother's wrist, pressing the blade harder against his throat, hoping that he wasn't wrong about the panic he had just seen in his brother's eyes.

"Why not? Why can't you do it? I'll finally be out of your way Jonathan, just like you've always wanted." Jace half yelled at him.

Jonathan blinked hard as his vision started to blur and the dark voice rang in his ears, louder than it had been that morning he had almost killed Jasper. _Do it….He wants it he wants to die and you know it! Be merciful….be his brother…give him what he wants Jonathan!_

"NO!" Jonathan yelled as he wrenched Jace's hand off his wrist and yanked the knife away before he didn't have control over it anymore.

"Why? Why won't you do it?" Jace yelled back at him.

"Because you're my brother you insane little fuck!"

Jace exhaled a breath that came out sounding like the quietest of gasps; it was the first time Jonathan had ever called him his brother in a way that wasn't mean or mocking…although, calling him an insane little fuck was hardly a term of endearment. Nonetheless, it had proven that Jace really had gotten through to him.

"Then help me. Help me, help us."

Jace couldn't believe how close he was to begging him. Jonathan suddenly looked exhausted. He closed his knife and slipped it back in his boot before tiredly running his fingers through his hair as Jace wiped the trickle of blood from his neck.

"What's the point… And there is no 'us'. Being brothers doesn't mean we're actually _brothers, _Jace. You know that just as well as I do. It's too late." Jonathan said with finality as he walked away to the door. With his hand on the knob, he stopped and said over his shoulder, "Just…make sure you remember to eat."

Jace stared at his back and just as he opened the door he said quietly, knowing that Jonathan would hear anyways,

"We can still be brothers, Jonathan. And I bet it wouldn't be as hard as we're thinking it would be." Jonathan couldn't stop the disbelieving scoff at his words.

"Right." he said as he shut the heavy metal door behind him and locked Jace in with a despairing finality.

"Jonathan, come in here a moment."

Jonathan pushed open the door of his father's study and entered the room, surprised to feel the sudden sting of hatred for the broad shouldered man that had his back to him from across the room. _Goddamn you, Jace. _

"Yes, Father?"

Jonathan stopped in the center of the room and crossed his hands behind his back, wishing he was upstairs asleep. That was no good…lately the dreams had been increasingly worse. Soon he would have to tell Valentine or he wouldn't sleep at all.

Valentine turned to him, his blacker than pitch eyes seeming to shoot through him like a bullet. Jonathan stood still under his searching gaze, so tired from his unexpected talk with Jace that he didn't look away when Valentine's identical eyes met his own, like he usually did. Valentine frowned.

"What's wrong, Jonathan?" Jonathan raised his eyebrows a little.

"Nothing, sir. Why?" Valentine cocked his head and studied him.

"You seem…distant. Unfocused." Jonathan shrugged.

"My head hurts a little to be honest." Valentine walked over to his desk and reached into the top drawer for his stele.

"Come here." Jonathan waved away his concern.

"I'm fine it's not that bad."

"I insist." Jonathan went over to stand next to him, knowing that there was no point in arguing.

Valentine brushed aside the blonde hair at his eldest son's right temple and lightly applied the iratze rune, noticing with pride that Jonathan didn't flinch as he did. When it was finished, Valentine placed his stele back on his desk.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Your brother always gives me headaches too." Valentine said in an overly light tone. Jonathan met his stare. Valentine's eyes shined in a way that instantly made Jonathan want to leave the room.

His father always gave the impression of knowing everything…and so far he hadn't given Jonathan any reason to doubt that ability. Jonathan looked away after a few seconds and Valentine studied his expression carefully.

His son was purposely keeping his expression blank but his posture was tense, so he was nervous about something. Valentine clenched his jaw in irritation; Jonathan was nervous about something that had to do with Jace. Valentine sighed and leaned a hip on the edge of his big oak desk.

"So what did your darling little brother say to you, Jonathan?"

Jonathan looked up and was caught in the steel trap of those shiny eyes. He dropped one shoulder in a shrug before reaching out and running his fingers along the edge of the desk in a nonchalant gesture.

"Oh just the same, 'You're such a mindless minion follower and I'm better than you' bit. You know the usual Angel Boy taunts." Jonathan said with a sneer. _Why was he protecting him? _

Valentine veiled his eyes and stared at him. He had almost had him convinced with his slightly annoyed but indifferent tone.

Valentine let the silence drag on oppressively, knowing that Jonathan could feel it like a heavy presence weighing down on him. He could sense the boy's growing unease and just as Jonathan's fingers began to fidget, Valentine said in a low voice,

"You're sure that's how the conversation went?"

Jonathan's eyes widened fractionally, but it was enough. Valentine sighed and pushed up off his desk. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk in a leisurely half circle behind Jonathan, who was forcing down the sudden trepidation that was making his lungs ache.

"Because it seemed to me, the last mood Jace was in was a kind of… mutinous, turn your enemy into an ally and rise up against the commander kind of mood." Jonathan swallowed as his father stopped just behind his shoulder and leaned down to his ear.

"I think he thinks that two small weapons fired at one really large weapon stand a chance of creating change…"

These words paired with the quiet and deadly tone of his voice left Jonathan believing that his father was mere seconds from driving a blade through his back and into his heart; just to ensure that Jonathan never turned on him the way Jace had.

And if Valentine wanted to kill him, what could Jonathan_ really_ do to stop him? Sure, Jonathan was probably the best Shadowhunter his age and could do things that had grown Shadowhunters agape with disbelief…but he was no match for the man who had trained him to be the Nephilim he was.

His father could snap his neck in the second in took him to just make the _decision _to reach down for the knife in his boot… and these panicked but truthful thoughts did nothing to slow Jonathan's racing pulse.

Valentine could see it, pounding away like the rapid flutters of a frightened bird's wings beneath the pale skin of his throat. And that was what Jonathan was sometimes…a little frightened bird; trying to fly with no direction and because of that he was very easy to misguide…

"What do you think?" Valentine asked him in a chillingly soft voice. It took Jonathan a moment to find his own voice.

"I think he's predestined to burn." Valentine's smile was like that of a skull's.

"Good answer."

Jonathan felt a rush of relief that was almost painful.

"However…I know how, persuasive your brother can be."

Valentine walked around to face him, dropping his threatening demeanor in favor for a parentally confiding one. Valentine flicked a knowing glance at his son before going across the room to the bar. He pulled out two heavy glass cups and splashed amber liquor in both before beckoning Jonathan over with a nod of his head.

Jonathan slid his glass off the bar and took a sip, remembering the time he and Jace had drank together in this very spot. _'We can still be brothers, Jonathan. And I bet it wouldn't be as hard as we're thinking it would be…' _

Jonathan forced Jace's voice away as Valentine turned to him with a fatherly look.

"You and I have always known that Jace is…different from us." Valentine now looked sadly thoughtful. "He doesn't think the same as we do, doesn't have the same values…he's separate. I've tried to get him to be more like you and I but…" he trailed off with a despairing note. "Some things have to be taught with force."

Jonathan looked up from his glass. Valentine stared back at him. "Now…Jace probably tried to convince you to believe certain untruths about me. I'm sure he said that I'm nothing but a heartless dictator and that I don't care for the two of you." he paused, pouring more alcohol into his glass.

Jonathan waited, not realizing that his fingers were gripping his own cup so tightly the crystal was leaving a grooved indented pattern in his palm.

Valentine's black eyes held the glittering sheen of oil as he said, "But I assure you, nothing could be farther from the truth."

Mistrust for the man next to him flared up inside him so strongly Jonathan had to quickly down the rest of his drink as a distraction to keep from instinctively moving away from his father the way that his body was telling him to. Valentine smirked and set his now empty glass back down on the bar before walking around it to the mirror set in the wall behind it. "Come here." Jonathan set his cup down and went reluctantly to his side.

"Look at us, Jonathan."

Jonathan looked at the two men in the mirror, wondering what it was that his father wanted him to see. After a few seconds, Valentine spoke again in a voice that captured Jonathan in a slow reverie.

"You and I…we're the same. Two halves of a whole. The similarities aren't just on the outside, we don't just have the same features; the same face the same eyes…we match inside as well. _You_ are my son, in all the ways that matter most, Jonathan. And Jace…he sees this. He's poisonous. He wants you to believe that you mean nothing to me. He'll get into your mind and corrupt it because he'll do whatever it takes to destroy our family. Don't let him."

His last words were spoken like a command, his voice loosing the persuasive softness, and Jonathan snapped out of the trance like state. Jonathan blinked a few times as Valentine turned away from the mirror.

"I'm glad we had that talk. It was long overdue."

Jonathan watched his father cross the room to his desk and pull out a bottle of viscous, purple tinged fluid. He set it on his desk before looking up at Jonathan, who was eyeing the contents of the bottle warily.

"I think he's had enough time to reflect on his behavior don't you?" Jonathan tore his eyes away from the bottle.

"What?"

"Your brother. Go collect him and take him down to the cellar. It's time." Jonathan walked around the bar to the desk, rubbing the fingertips of his left hand together nervously.

"Father?"

"Hm?"

"I was just thinking…well is this necessary?" Valentine's eyes flicked up from the desktop. Jonathan faltered. "I mean, couldn't it be dangerous for him?"

Valentine's eyes gleamed with a sinister and threatening light as he raised his face up slowly from the contents on his desk.

"I didn't realize you cared." he said softly.

The ventricles of Jonathan's heart felt like they had become twisted around each other like a tangled plate of pasta.

"I don't." Valentine cocked an eyebrow. Jonathan shrugged.

"I just wouldn't want you to be minus a soldier." A ghost of a smile played at Valentine's mouth.

"Don't worry. We'll take the necessary precautions." Valentine said as he looked back down at the assortment of objects he had taken from the Downworlder piece of filth, Feltman. "Your brother won't suffer anything permanent."

Valentine held up a bone handled dagger that curved to a wicked point at the tip and looked at it thoughtfully before the specter smile returned to his mouth.

"Unless you're counting an attitude change."


	24. Chapter 24

The potatoes needed salt, but other than that, the food wasn't bad. Jace didn't even mind having to eat steak with his fingers.

Jonathan hadn't brought him silverware, knowing that he would either use his fork to pick the lock of his manacle or stab him with it. Or both in that order.

Pretty smart move on his part, Jace thought as he licked his fingers clean.

There was suddenly a loud click at the door and Jace hastily set the tray back on the table and sat on the edge of the cot to face whoever was coming in.

Jonathan quietly shut the door behind him before hurrying over to Jace, keys in hand. Jace frowned at him as he started unlocking his manacle.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan's jaw was set and he wasn't looking at him.

"Come on. We don't have time to chat."

the manacle fell off and Jace looked down at it before he was yanked up off the cot by his arm. Jonathan started pulling him to the door but Jace pulled his arm out of Jonathan's grip, spinning the other boy around to face him with the force of the motion.

"Wait, where are we going what's happening?" Jonathan gave him a deeply annoyed look.

"What part of 'we don't have time to chat' didn't you understand? We need to go right now. I mean…" he gave him a dark look, "Unless you want to stay here." Jace shook his head.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you're acting so weird."

"By the Angel…" Jonathan swore as he pressed his palms into his eyes. "If we get caught, it's gunna be on you…" Jace took a few steps towards him, his eyebrows coming together as his frown deepened.

"Get caught doing what?" Jonathan dropped his hands.

"Look…I thought about all that you said. And I guess…well I guess I'm suicidal too." Jace stared at him, half believing that his steak had been drugged and that he was hallucinating.

"Wait, so you're gunna help-?"

"Yes, now will you come on? We literally have two minutes." Jonathan turned to the door and peered out into the hallway, beckoning Jace to follow him.

The boys crept silently through the house, backs pressed to the walls, with Jonathan in the lead and shushing Jace every time he tried to talk. They rounded a corner and Jonathan took them down a flight of stairs.

"Where are we going?" Jonathan threw him a furious look over his shoulder, but answered him only because he knew Jace would just keep asking.

"We aren't going anywhere. You are. I'll tell Father you jumped me when I came down to get you and that you took off. He'll be pissed so get as far away from here as you can."

Jace frowned; there were so many holes in that plan already.

"Wait why aren't you coming with me?" Jonathan stopped outside the cellar door and turned to him.

"I said I was going to help you. And I'm going to." he pulled out another key and slid it into the lock of the door. "Remember that time you asked me how I got to Alicante and I told you 'don't worry about it'?" Jace hooded his eyes.

"Yeah that was a fun night."

Jonathan smiled and pulled open the door. He looked over at Jace with a secret glitter in his eyes.

"Well you're about to find out how I did it. Come on." Jonathan disappeared into the dark room and Jace followed, wondering what he was talking about.

"Shh, be quiet and close the door." Jonathan's voice came from the darkness at his left. Jace silently closed the door and blinked rapidly when the light suddenly came on. "Over here, quick."

Jonathan was leaning down at the base of a long metal table, brushing aside some dirt on the floor. Jace went to his side. Jonathan stood and gestured down at their feet.

"There's a trap door around here we just have to find it under all this dirt." he looked around as Jace started kicking aside puffs of dirt. "Wait I think I see part of it." Jace looked.

"Where?" Jonathan pointed.

"Right there."

As Jace leaned down to see where he was pointing, Jonathan grabbed him and slammed his head down into the metal edge of the table with so much force it knocked him unconscious.

For the second time in too short a time, Jace awoke to a pounding head and one wrist securing him down to a piece of uncomfortable furniture. This time it was a metal table.

Jace shot upright with difficulty as he felt hands tightening another leather strap around his forearm. Jonathan pulled him back down and secured the strap to the table, whistling merrily as he did it.

Then he strolled down to Jace's feet, adding a little skip to his step before he started strapping Jace's ankles down.

Jace kicked out at him, hating how peppy he was and just hating him in general. Jonathan dodged his kick with a wide eyed, amused look.

"Hey now. None of that." he said as he finished with his other ankle.

Jace felt like he was going to be sick. What had happened? he thought with his eyes closed.

Jonathan laughed then, slow and arrogant. Jace opened his eyes. Jonathan had come up to stand by his face, a cocky grin pulling up one corner of his mouth.

"God you were easy. I thought I was going to have trouble getting you down here…but you basically skipped on after me." Jace groaned low in his throat.

"You were never gunna help me…"

"Oh I am going to help you, just not in the way you were wanting."

Jonathan disappeared from his sight then, but returned not a second later with a pair of scissors. He slipped them under the edge of Jace's shirt and started to cut it off. Soon his shirt was gone; nothing but pieces of dark cut up fabric that Jonathan pulled away from his skin and tossed onto the floor.

"Would it be too clichéd of me to say that this is for your own good little brother?" Jonathan said with a dark gleam lighting his eyes. Jace just laid there frozen for awhile.

"He got to you didn't he."

It wasn't a question, and Jace practically spit it at him. Jonathan chuckled lightly in response. Jace fought to keep the desperation out of his voice but failed as he said,

"He's poison, Jonathan. Why can't you see that?" Jonathan looked over at him.

"Funny, he said the same thing about you."

"Oh yeah? What else did he say? Did he say that I was the black sheep set out to destroy your perfect little family? Come on, Jonathan. I can't believe you don't see him for the snake that he is."

"He said you were persuasive. And you are. So who's to say the rest isn't true too?"

"God, your reasoning sucks. You're so blinded and controlled by him you can't see what's right in front of you, it's sad it really is." Jonathan leaned down and spoke close to his face.

"Well we can't all be perfect sighted Angel Boys now can we?" his black eyes burned into Jace's golden ones and Jace suddenly felt a hollowness in his chest.

"Why are you doing this?" Jace asked, his voice coming out quieter than he had expected it to.

Jonathan tossed the scissors away before leaning his palms back down on the edge of the table, his face creasing into a thoughtful frown.

"Let's see, why am I doing this…" he dropped his eyes down to Jace's and stared at him darkly for a few seconds.

"It's because _I know what I am_. And guess what? I like it. I like being bad. Makes me happy." Jonathan murmured before he circled around Jace's head.

Jace clenched his teeth and tried to stop the rising feeling of dread that was threatening to envelop him at his current situation.

"And can you honestly say that if the situation weren't reversed, and it was me on that table, that you'd just…walk away?" Jonathan asked him.

"You know, yesterday I might have. But now…"

Jace raised his eyes up to his brother's and Jonathan could see a hateful and bitter desire for revenge in them that made him smile.

"Well, well. Looks like you've got a little devil in you after all." Jonathan said with a touch of pride. But then his smile faltered, and the sparkle in his eyes dimmed as he said in a quiet voice that betrayed a hint of regret,

"Too bad it won't be enough to save you."

Just then there was a loud bang behind Jace's head at the door as it opened, and Jonathan gave him one last dark look before moving away out of his sight.

Valentine entered the cellar, and though Jace could not see him, the atmosphere of the room seemed to change like then man's energy brought a sick darkness to the surroundings.

His father pushed a small wheeled cart over to the table and though he was curious to see what was on it, he wasn't _that _curious because he knew he would find out soon enough anyways.

Jace counted to three before flicking his eyes over to his father's face. Valentine chuckled.

"Well if looks could kill, I'd be in trouble." he said with a patronizing smile.

Jace felt goosebumps erupt on his arms as it hit him with stunning force exactly how much he hated this man. Valentine looked down at the assortment of objects on the cart in front of him.

"But unfortunately for you, looks do not in fact kill. There are many things in this world that do kill, as you know. This for instance." he held up the bone handled dagger with the lethal tip.

Jace wasn't impressed and Valentine could tell; he'd seen many a blade in his lifetime. Valentine smiled and lowered his eyes in amusement as he placed the knife back on the cart.

Valentine flicked his eyes back up to Jace's, who blinked as he saw the sudden deadly gleam in them.

Valentine then raised up a jar of thick, purple tinged fluid for Jace to see, his eyes never leaving his son's face.

"And then there's this." he murmured.

Jace looked at it, trying to remember where he had seen it before. Valentine grinned.

"Know what it is?" Jace flicked his eyes back over to his father's.

"Grape Kool-Aid?"

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose. Valentine's grin faded as his eyes darkened with annoyance.

Jace couldn't stop the smirk of conceit; Valentine had walked right into that one.

He knew it was probably bad that he loved how it enraged his father to know that Jace was not afraid of him, and could in fact find humor in situations like this.

Valentine looked down at the arrogant smile on his son's face before swirling the contents of the jar around like wine in a glass. _Go ahead and enjoy that smile now, Angel Boy, cause it'll be your last. _

"This is the blood from a very rare demon," he said finally, looking through the glass of the jar like the liquid inside was melted down gemstones. "One that you've never seen, one that I've only seen once. It's blood is so toxic, so poisonous, the Children of Lilith hunt them down for it because it makes for a great weapon, a very effective…" he looked down and met Jace's eyes, "Tool."

Valentine set the jar back down on the cart. "The only problem is that it's so deadly. But the warlocks, they came up with a solution to that. They can be very ingenious at times; who'd have known?"

Jace clenched his teeth against the annoyance at his father's words just as Jonathan came around the table with a syringe in his hand. Before Jace had time to react, Jonathan stabbed it into the vein at the crook of his arm with surprising skill and injected him with it. Jace threw him a furious glare as Jonathan pulled out the needle and smiled with dark humor.

"Sorry I don't have any lollipops to give you." he said as he turned away.

Jace rolled his eyes and looked back at his father who had picked up a small timer and had set it to twenty minutes. Jace sneered.

"Is that how long I have until the bomb detonates?" Valentine looked at him with a slightly amused expression as he unscrewed the lid of the jar of demon poison.

"No. That's how long you have before the antidote runs out of your system. And besides…" he picked up the dagger and dipped it into the jar, coating the blade with the blood before looking back up into Jace's eyes.

"I doubt you'd last much longer than twenty minutes." he said seriously, with no hint of ridicule in his voice.

Valentine then pushed aside the cart and approached the table with the poisoned knife held lightly in his hand, his eyes scanning Jace's chest like a bear scanning the surface of water for a fish.

"I'll do my best to avoid your Marks, but what I hit we can always just go back and fix later." he said with an amused shrug. Jace glared at him.

Valentine lowered the knife to a point centimeters above his skin and Jace had to stop himself from trying to sink down away from it into the table as his father glanced over his shoulder at Jonathan, who pressed the start button on the timer and backed away towards the wall.

Valentine looked back at Jace, who suddenly couldn't pull his eyes away from the timer. Nineteen minutes and fifty-six seconds had never seemed like such an enormous chunk of time before.

Valentine chuckled, seeming to read his mind, or more like the dread in his eyes as he tore them away from the agonizing and dispassionate numbers.

"Now, the funny thing about this poison…" Valentine pressed the blade down to his skin and drew a six inch line down his chest.

Jace tensed, feeling the sharp pain of the knife cut him but thinking reflexively, _well that's not so bad _as Valentine lifted the blade back up again and stared down with interest at the cut he had made.

"Wait for it…" Valentine said with a small smile.

Jace gasped loudly. The cut suddenly felt like it was on fire; like someone was holding a white hot piece of steel against his chest and he couldn't pull away from it.

Jace glanced down at his chest, not believing that all he was seeing was a little cut when what he felt was a sharp, burning ache that made him think his skin was bubbling like super heated wax.

Jace groaned when he realized that the pain was not fading, but sinking deeper down into his chest and spreading fire into his muscles and veins.

"God, that's not funny at all." Jace groaned. Valentine made a tsk sound as a look of mocking bliss swept his handsome features.

"Aw Jace… I've waited so long to hear you say that." he laughed as he turned to dip the blade again.

Jace couldn't stop the despaired sound that escaped his throat as he dropped his head back down on the table and shut his eyes; eighteen minutes and forty-two seconds.


	25. Chapter 25

As Jonathan stood back against the cellar wall and watched his father carve into his brother with a righteous expression on his face, he couldn't help but feel…uneasy.

With every minute that dragged by and the deeper his father cut Jace, Jonathan felt more and more like he was witnessing the torturing of an angel.

Sure, Jace deserved to be punished for rebelling against their father…but this seemed…cruel.

He saw that as the demon blood entered his blood and burned him, Jace's muscles clenched with tremors and he pulled at the unyielding leather straps that bound his wrists down to the table, but for all his struggling, only succeeded in leaving bracelets of rubbed raw skin.

When the timer beeped the halfway mark, his father seemed to up the ante; now slowly running over the same cuts again with increased pressure and more burning poison.

And Jace, stoic, sarcastic, 'Hit me again but like you mean it this time,' _Jace, _who had once laughed when Jonathan had broken his ribs…actually had visible tears of pain in his strange golden eyes.

Every once in awhile, a shuddering gasp slipped past Jace's clenched teeth and his eyes squeezed shut against the agony that was being inflicted upon him and all that Jonathan could think was…this is wrong. No father should be able to do this to their son…

Valentine, seeing that there was only a few minutes left on the timer, pressed down on the blade harder, knowing that he was wearing down both boys' endurance. Jace's skin made a soft ripping sound as the steel of the blade parted through it and blood rolled down his stomach as a pained groan, the loudest yet, came from the boy's throat. Not long now…

Jace clenched his fists together, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, and turned his face away from the grin he saw stretched across his father's face.

Valentine saw Jonathan shift restlessly against the wall out of the corner of his eye, crossing and uncrossing his arms, and while Jace was facing his brother, Valentine dipped the knife in more poison and slid the razor sharp edge up along the tight skin of Jace's ribs.

Jonathan cringed and looked away from his brother's face, wishing that he could erase the look of pain that was now burned into his mind, and not truly believing that he had just heard _Jace_ scream out like that…

As Valentine dipped the knife again with a slightly amused expression, Jace watched him warily, panting lightly like he had been running. His father lowered the blade to his ribs again and Jace squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the burning pain and willing himself to remain silent even though he knew he wouldn't be able to…

"Father, stop."

Jace's eyes flickered open. Jonathan had come away from the wall and was now staring at the side of Valentine's face with hard eyes. Valentine pulled the blade away from Jace slightly, who seemed to feel its absence from his skin more assuredly then he could feel gravity.

Valentine tilted his head towards Jonathan and looked at him through slightly hooded eyes.

In the extreme silence of the room, all that could be heard was Jace's pained breathing.

"Come again?" Valentine asked quietly. Jonathan faltered slightly, his eyes becoming unfocused only for a second.

"Enough. I think he's learned his lesson."

Somehow, Jace felt a flicker of surprise that was immediately followed by even more surprise. That he could still feel something other than agony was incredible to him. He blinked wearily as his father turned to look down at him with a studious look on his unlined face.

"Oh I don't doubt that he has." he said after a moment of observing the damage he had inflicted on his youngest son and the toll it had taken on his spirit.

Jace's eyes no longer held that sparkle of stubborn rebelliousness that so enraged him. All that Valentine could read in them was pain and exhaustion.

Valentine looked down at the knife still held lightly in his hand, the edge still wet with Jace's blood and demon poison; the two had combined to make a sickly purple-black color.

"The question is…have you?"

Valentine turned to look at him, black eyes boring into identical black eyes.

Jonathan stood frozen, unable to look away but feeling sudden, paralyzing trepidation pumping through his veins that made an icy sweat break out at his temples.

"Come here." Valentine said in his softest, 'you don't have a choice', tone that promised retribution if ignored.

Jonathan crossed to his side, still unable to draw his eyes away from his father's glinting obsidian stare. Valentine finally broke the chest crushing connection to flick his eyes back down at the knife in his hand.

Jonathan followed his gaze, trying hard to not look past it at the deep, bloody cuts that rent Jace's chest and stomach. Valentine turned the knife and offered it to his eldest son, handle first.

"Take it," he said with the same soft, demanding tone. "And cut him. Just a little."

Jonathan glanced up at his face quickly, horror making him appear innocent like he never had before. Valentine stared into the black depths of his eyes, appealing to the darkness he knew was inside of him.

"Are you really about to disobey me, Jonathan? Now that you've seen the consequences?" he murmured.

Jonathan's hand reached out and he took the knife from him, his eyes never leaving Valentine's.

On the table, Jace was willing Jonathan to break free with everything he had inside him. He was strong; he could do it.

As Jonathan turned away from him with a slightly confused look, Valentine glanced down and into Jace's eyes, pleased to see a small flicker of light back in them. Despite everything, Jace had hope for his big brother. He believed in him.

Jace looked away from Jonathan and directly up into his father's cold stare.

Some of the defiance slipped back into his expression as he stared back at him and Valentine couldn't help but enjoy it; the way one enjoys seeing a rare event like an eclipse or a shooting star, knowing that they probably won't ever see it again…at least not for a long time.

Still meeting Jace's eyes, Valentine tilted his head towards Jonathan. "On the ribs would be good." he said with a small smile.

Jace gave him a glare that could kill birds in mid-flight, and Valentine smiled even more.

_Ah Angel Boy, you should know better than to play tug of war with me over him…_he said to him with his eyes.

Jace glanced away from him at Jonathan, who had lowered the edge of the blade to his skin, a frown still pulling at his too handsome face. Jace looked down at the knife, drawing in a quiet breath as he clenched his hands into fists once more.

As Jonathan lightly pressed down on the blade and dragged it across Jace's ribs, Jace couldn't stop the loud groan that rumbled in his throat at the burning hot pain that seemed to set his skin on fire. Blood trickled down Jace's ribcage and he dropped his head back on the table, his eyes squeezed shut as he drew in a pained breath through his teeth; the cut now at the bubbling stage.

Jonathan's vision swam and the bleeding cuts on Jace's side became blurry, the red of his blood the only thing really visible.

Jonathan saw his hand with the knife in it move back to Jace's skin, felt himself apply more pressure, and trace a long line down the length of his side, feeling as emotionless as he would be if he was merely drawing in the sand with a stick.

Jace's tortured yell echoed in the small room and the sound of it made Jonathan flick his dark eyes up to Jace's face.

Jace stared up at the ceiling and bit down on his bottom lip, a tear trickling out of the corner of his eye and running down the side of his face and into his hair.

Jonathan tilted his head to the side and watched him lie there, panting with the effort it took to hold back the sounds of his pain. Jace, feeling Jonathan watching him, felt his face harden as he glared up at the ceiling like it was the one cutting him.

Jonathan felt himself turn and dip the blade into the jar of demon poison before once again bringing it to the long cut that ran down his brother's side. He pulled the blade down the cut, making it deeper, hearing skin tear before Jace's screams drowned it out completely.

This time, Jonathan felt something. Seeing Jace's abdomen clench and contract against the pain, seeing him yank thoughtlessly at the straps holding his arms down, and seeing his body pull away from the weapon held in his hand made him feel…_something._

Jace turned his face towards Jonathan's just as the timer went off, signaling the end of his twenty minutes of punishment. Jace saw Jonathan's hand tighten on the handle of the knife.

"Jonathan, stop." his voice came out raspy and low from screaming.

He swallowed, feeling like someone had choked him with sandpaper. Jonathan looked up, meeting his eyes and Jace felt like he was staring into two empty black holes; his brother clearly was not there.

"Please."

Jonathan leaned forward with his hands on the table, the black eyes running over Jace's face almost lovingly.

"Why?" he asked softly. His little brother stared up at him, confusion making him look so young.

Jace wished he could find it in him to be sarcastic because he knew that it would make this situation better somehow, but he just couldn't find it because the look on his brother's face was making it impossible.

"Does it hurt you, Angel Boy?" Jonathan murmured to him, his tone mocking, his eyes now glinting with malice as the smallest of smiles pulled playfully at his lips.

Jace couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

He tore his eyes away from his brother's cruel expression, feeling a crushing betrayal in his chest that he knew he never should have let himself fall victim to in the first place.

His eyes fell on his father. He watched with a feeling of nausea as Valentine's expression morphed slowly into one of cruel amusement and superiority.

This was all just a game to him…although his father would call it a lesson.

There were things that Valentine meant for him to learn through this experience. And what were these things?

One: He was in fact a soldier, and when soldiers stepped out of line…they were forcibly put back.

Two: Mutiny and rebellion only piss off the commander.

And Three: A demon cannot be persuaded to become an angel just because you really really want him to. It just isn't in their nature.

As Valentine stared into Jace's eyes, he couldn't help but feel atrocious pleasure at the dead, slightly horrified look in them. It would be a long time before anything lit them up again…

And as Jace looked away from his father back to his brother, who had turned to silence the timer with a look of annoyance and impatience, he realized there was even more to the lesson than he had thought.

His father had known that Jonathan wouldn't be able to resist hurting Jace like this…not after years of setting them against each other and making him hate Jace. He also knew that Jonathan wouldn't care about time limits once he started to have fun…

As the two members of his family turned to look down at him, his brother holding the freshly poisoned blade, with matching cruel smiles and glinting black eyes making them look eerily and unnaturally identical, Jace realized the most important lesson that his father had wanted to teach him….this house was his Hell, and in it he was absolutely and inescapably alone.


	26. Chapter 26

"Youngest Master Morgenstern?"

Light fingers brushed across his forehead and down the curve of his temple, as gentle as the sweep of a butterfly's wings on a flower petal.

"Please open your eyes."

Jace's eyelashes twitched as they tried to comply with the whispering voice's request. The first thing Jace was aware of was a dazzling green set of big eyes, inches from his own.

For a moment, warmth struck through him as he mistook the eyes for Clary's, but then his vision cleared and he saw the face that the eyes were set into, and that the hair that covered the head and framed the delicate face was green and not the fiery red that he had been so hoping to see.

These eyes were far too light a green to be hers anyways…hers were darker, deeper, like rich, moody emeralds compared to the clear peridot of Jasper's.

Jace groaned as the realization sank in that Clary was not there with him.

"I know it hurts," Jasper whispered to him as he looked down Jace's naked torso at the numerous gashes that split his golden skin.

Jasper couldn't help but cringe; the cuts looked awful. Some were long and wavering, like Jace had tried to pull away from the blade as it cut him so the end result was a not very straight line that sort of looked like a sinister smile that pulled up at one end.

And other cuts were short and precise; like they were put there by a very meticulous hand. Some wounds overlapped others, like blood drenched sticks stacked up for burning, and as Jasper's eyes traveled over the damage he found a pattern of incisions he couldn't believe he had missed before.

From where he was standing, he could clearly see the long, finger length letters that had been carved into Jace's stomach and though he was looking at them from the wrong direction, he could still read what had been written there.

Jasper's stomach roiled as the two little written in congealed blood red words seemed to jump out at him with all the viciousness and cruelty of the boy who had surely carved them there, and with the fiercest glee...

**HA HA**

Jasper tore his eyes away and back up to Jace's face, feeling relief the second he was no longer looking at his many injuries.

Jace was blinking slowly, like he was trying to remember what had happened and where he was. He started to move his arms, and finding them restrained, turned his head quickly to look at his wrist as he sat up in alarm.

Just as Jasper reached out his hands to hold him down so he wouldn't hurt himself more, Jace yelled loudly; his sudden violent movement had yanked his cuts and caused the congealed blood to split and the scabs to crack, making the pain new again.

Jace fell back onto the table with a small sob, fresh blood now rolling down and staining his skin like slow scarlet tears.

Jasper's hands fluttered over him nervously as a worried frown creased his perfect face. "You shouldn't move much…" he mumbled.

Jace was too exhausted to even open his eyes again, let alone offer a sarcastic retort about the painfully obvious.

"Jasper, you shouldn't be here." he said back finally.

Each word scraped against the raw insides of his throat like they were lined with metal.

Jasper's frown deepened as he heard Jace's voice; no longer the smooth fluid tone with the touch of sarcasm in it that he was accustomed to, but a bleak sounding, low croak that was void of any inflections or hints that would give Jasper hope that the golden Shadowhunter still cared about anything at all.

And it seemed true that Jace appeared resigned at the very least, and completely dead inside at the most, because when Jasper peered down into his eyes, he had never before seen such dullness in them. Their usual bright amber color, like that of fire, was now faded and lackluster, almost as if their rebel flames had been beaten out and all that was left was ash. With a shudder, Jasper realized that his metaphor probably described what had happened here…

"I know, but I had a feeling something was wrong in the Manor…so I thought I should come see for myself." he peered intently at Jace before continuing, "Normally, when I get bad feelings coming from the house I ignore them, but this time…it felt like it had something to do with you, Master Morgenstern." Jace turned his head to the fae boy and looked at him.

"That was stupid. You shouldn't have come here." he repeated. Jasper lowered his eyes at his reprimanding tone.

"Never put yourself in danger for someone else. That's rule number one. And don't trust anybody…ever. That's also rule number one. There's two rule number ones, don't ask me why, there just is."

Jasper smiled despite the continued bleakness of Jace's voice.

"I get the feeling you are making these rules up as you go, Master Morgenstern."

The dead look that Jace gave him in response chased away all Jasper's humor.

"That doesn't mean they should be ignored. Trust me, you'll be better off if you just look out for number one." Jasper studied him.

"Better off?" Jace's dark circled eyes fixed up on the ceiling.

"Way better off."

"I'll be better off if I never trust or help anyone?"

"Yep."

"No offense, but you need a new rule number ones. They-it sucks."

The corner of Jace's mouth twitched.

He dropped his eyes down from the ceiling and fixed them on the boy. Jasper was pleased to see the tiniest flicker of life in them.

"Oh yeah? And what do you suggest my rules be?" Jasper's eyes brightened.

"Never stop fighting and no fairy wine after 3 a.m."

Jace smiled and the sight of it eased the dread that had been slowly crushing Jasper's chest since he had first entered the cellar and found Jace unconscious and mutilated.

"Why not?" Jace asked. Jasper's impossible eyes sparkled.

"Because angels should never give up when a war is raging on and they are needed." he said simply. Jace frowned, confused.

"No, I meant about the wine…" Jasper smiled again.

"I know that's what you meant…Fairy wine when drunk by mortals after the witching hour has some odd effects. Some people turn into various forgotten creatures for a few hours, while others simply combust."

"But the fun part is not knowing which it'll be right? Whether you'll pop like a balloon or turn into a dragon…"

Jasper's smile widened and revealed small white fangs that Jace had never noticed before. But then again he had never seen the fae boy smile before now.

"Right that is the fun of it,"Jasper said with a smirk, "For those who like to live on that little stick that hangs _out_ over the edge."

Jace laughed, and even though it hurt his throat badly, it felt great. He hadn't thought he would laugh again so soon.

He looked over at Jasper and felt comfort in the boy's presence, even though he wasn't the person that he had wanted to see upon first opening his eyes.

Well at least he was pretty to look at like Clary was. And Jasper was a good sort of boy pretty, not like Jonathan's attractiveness, which had the air of being tainted and destroyed from within, like something black and vile all wrapped up in beautiful porcelain paper.

Jonathan wasn't fooling anyone though…his ugliness could be seen clearly from the outside; all one had to do was look into his eyes and suddenly his gorgeous face was nothing more than a mask he hid behind.

Jasper seemed to sense that Jace was thinking about troubling things because he placed a light hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly.

"You say it was stupid of me to come here and that I should only look out for myself…and yet you didn't only look out for yourself the day your brother had convinced himself I had killed his mare." Jace's face was empty. "You saved my life. He would've killed me had you not stopped him."

"If you're here because you think you owe me-"

"I'm here of my own choosing. And tied down as you are, there isn't much you can do about it."

Jace flicked a dark look at Jasper, who surprisingly, didn't back down from his look but continued to stare back at him with hard determination. Jace sighed and looked past him at the wall. _Stubborn ass fairies..._

"I stopped him because I like you better when you're breathing. If you get caught down here, my father won't hesitate…no matter how rare your gifts are." Jasper's eyes wandered down to Jace's injuries again.

"My gifts…" he said quietly as he stretched out his arm, palm lowered over Jace's chest. Jace flicked his eyes down at his hand and then back up at his face.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't heal you…they would notice that. But I can numb the nerves and skin so it all doesn't hurt as much." Jace could only stare at him.

"I thought your affinities only worked with animals?" Jasper smiled again.

"Are people not just civilized animals?"

But then his eyes flickered back down to the mess of bloody cuts on Jace's body and his smile was gone, to be replaced by a hard line.

"…It is true though that some are much more civilized than others."

And then without waiting for Jace to respond, Jasper lowered his palm down to his skin and closed his eyes. Jace winced as his light touch landed on two crossed cuts that skirted the edges of a permanent Mark on his chest.

Jace remained quiet as Jasper slowly brushed his palm down the length of his torso, spreading numbness like novacane all along his damaged skin.

When his hand reached Jace's lower belly, and passed over the cruel words carved there by his brother, Jasper lifted his hand away and opened his eyes, observing the blood that stained the heel of his palm and the tips of his fingers.

"There. That should be better."

Had Jace not been watching, he would have missed the blood evaporate completely from Jasper's palm, leaving his skin clean like the boy had never touched him at all.

"How did you do that?" Jasper's eyes gleamed brightly, their color reminding Jace of sea green glass in bright summer sunlight.

"Magic. Take care, Angel Jace. Don't forget your rules."

And then he was gone from the cellar completely, between one quick second and the next.


	27. Chapter 27

Since the pain had for the most part left him, Jace found it relatively easy to close his eyes and slip back under consciousness, as he was still exhausted. It felt like he had only had his eyes closed for a few minutes when he felt hands at his wrists.

He opened his eyes but did not turn to see who it was that was releasing him, knowing that Jasper wouldn't have come back and that aside from the fae stable boy, he did not wish to see anyone else.

The person moved over to his right wrist and began unbuckling the strap and Jace could tell by the sound of his sure and confident movements that it was Jonathan.

Jonathan saw that Jace's eyes were open but did not speak to him. When his wrists were free he moved down and began to free his ankles. And Jace did not move or try to sit up; he didn't even rub his raw wrists.

He just laid there, staring up at the ceiling as the tension in the cellar rose and rose like a fever. When he was free, Jonathan walked to his side.

"Can you sit up?" he asked.

Jace didn't reply. After a few seconds he slid his palms down on the table and pushed himself up, grimacing though he did it slowly. Then Jonathan backed away from the table as Jace swung his legs off and pulled himself over to the edge, his face turning alarmingly pale as he did it. Jonathan crossed his arms.

"I'm supposed to take you back to your room." Jace flicked his eyes up to his and Jonathan noticed that they were the only dark feature of his face.

"I know the way there." he said in a low voice.

Just hearing its raspy tone reminded Jonathan of the last few minutes of his torture, at his own hand, when Jace had screamed so loud his voice had given out. And then as he was bringing the poisoned blade back and forth in a sawing motion, finishing up the last **A **so it was all nice and deep, he realized that Jace was no longer screaming and that he had passed out.

That was when Valentine had decided they had better call it quits.

"I realize that, but Father believes you need an escort." he said back. Jace stared back at him dully.

"Whatever."

Then as he was about to lower himself to the floor, Jonathan reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the black shirt that had been hanging there like a rag. He held it out to Jace, who looked at him like he was an idiot.

"I don't want that." he said, his tone angry because he had had to say that he didn't want it when it should have been damn obvious to anyone with eyeballs that it would hurt to put the shirt on. Jonathan leaned his head to the side but didn't take the shirt back.

"The Circle is here." was all he replied. A bitter smile broke Jace's expression as he reached out and yanked the shirt out of Jonathan's fingers.

"Well we certainly can't have them see me walking around looking like a knife sharpener," his eyes glittered as his voice took on his best impression of their father, complete with his arrogant, cultured superiority. "Now can we, Jonathan?"

Jonathan hooded his eyes but didn't say anything; Jace had imitated Valentine so well it was somewhat disturbing.

Jace gave him a little sneer before tugging the shirt on, eyes closed tight against the pain it caused him. Then he slid to the edge of the table and stood up, where his legs promptly gave out and he fell to his knees with a gasp of pain.

Jonathan quickly bent down to help him but before his hand could touch his shoulder, Jace shot back up and shoved his arm away viciously, his eyes bright with a rage that was close to animalistic.

"Don't!" he yelled.

Jonathan actually stepped back, surprised because he had never seen Jace so angry in all his life. His eyes looked so wild it was shocking.

"Don't try to help me now…" he said, every inch of him taut with threat. "You had your chance."

And he didn't know how he did it, but then Jace turned and walked away from him, his body not betraying an ounce of the pain that he was feeling.

Jace pulled the cellar door open so hard that when he let go of the handle it flew back and hit the wall with a bang before it came ricocheting back; and anybody slower than Jace would've been crushed by it. As it were, Jace had completely disappeared from the doorway seconds before it slammed shut, leaving Jonathan alone inside.

Jonathan sighed and jogged to the door, knowing that he had to catch up with Jace and make sure he didn't do anything stupid in front of the Circle due to his extreme anger, because if he did, Jonathan would be the one to pay for it for he had been assigned as Jace's escort.

Jonathan all but sprinted up the stairs and down the hallways just as Jace was approaching the open doorway of his father's study. Jace turned and looked back over his shoulder as he saw Jonathan running after him. He only gave him a glare and continued his long stride.

Jonathan caught up to him as they passed the open doorway and Jonathan drew in a breath, hoping that Valentine wouldn't notice them.

"Boys? Come in here a minute."

_FUCK! _Jonathan shouted in his head as he turned on his heel to go back. He schooled his face into blankness before stepping into the doorway.

Most of the Circle was there; all gathered around in armchairs with Valentine in the gravitational point. His father looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Where's your brother? Jace!" he called. To Jonathan's surprise, Jace appeared at his side, all evidence of his rage gone like it had never existed in the first place. Valentine's eyes shone when they fell on him.

"Jace." he said in greeting. Jonathan was sure that only the three of them could hear the undercurrents of mockery in the way he said it.

"Father." Jace's response was empty.

Valentine smiled then, and just the way it lit his face; Jonathan felt a foreboding weight in his chest. His father gestured to his fellow Circle members with a light wave of his hand.

"Don't be rude now Jace, say hello."

He was testing him…dance little puppet dance…Jonathan thought.

This was to see how well Jace had learned respect, to see if he would do as he was told or if he would cock an eyebrow and say something smart ass in front of the Circle.

Jonathan looked away from Valentine to Jace. He could tell that Jace was thinking the same things he had been thinking.

Jace's eyes dropped to the floor for a second before they flicked back up again, but when they did, they were uncharacteristically dull and blank, like he had just stepped out.

"Hello."

The Circle members greeted him but Jace didn't hear a word; he was too busy committing the look his father was giving him to memory so that he could recall it perfectly and paste it on over the faces of every demon he killed from that day forth.

"I've decided I want you boys to join us for dinner," Valentine said to the room at large, though his bright onyx eyes were still on Jace. "It's been too long since the whole gang has been together and besides…I know Jace must be famished."

This taunt seemed to be too much for him because Jace turned on his heel and walked away down the hall, his jaw clenched like he was restraining himself from speaking.

Jonathan flicked his eyes back over to his father, who was grinning. Then Valentine nodded his head in the direction Jace had gone and Jonathan followed after him.

Jace barely refrained from slamming the door of his room shut so that the walls shook and the windows exploded with glass. Instead he closed it with a calm that he didn't feel and paced to the center of his spotless room, where he stopped and slowly ran his fingers through his hair.

He felt a terrible building anger inside him, far surpassing any anger he had ever felt before.

How was he going to sit through dinner with this feeling, with his father taunting him in front of his followers? How was he expected to just sit there and take it all… without so much as a dirty look, or a snide comment or anything, because surely that's what Valentine would be looking for…

He would be waiting for Jace to slip up and then…what? What more could he do?

Jace cringed as soon as he had the thought. What more could he do? Valentine had only scratched the surface, and he had a very creative mind…

Just then, his door opened and Jonathan entered. The rage seemed to come back to Jace in a second.

It was an unspoken _law _between the two of them that they were not to step foot in the other's room.

And that Jonathan had done it in front of him, when he was already pissed…

But Jonathan only looked back at his wide eyed incredulous, rage filled expression with mild interest, his head cocked to the side a little.

"I'm supposed to take your stele." he said.

Jace let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding before he stalked over to his desk and yanked open the top drawer.

"He's really thought of everything hasn't he." he said before he flung the stele across the room at Jonathan's face.

Jonathan caught it single handedly like Jace knew he would but was hoping he wouldn't, before he turned to leave, pulling the door closed behind him without another word.

Dinner with the Circle was just the nightmare that Jace had expected it to be.

Though he was in fact nearly starving, he couldn't really taste the food because he had dropped into a numb, apathetic-like state. It was the only way he could sit through it all and keep his sanity; although that was slowly dwindling.

His father had insisted that his sons sit at the head of the table with him, with Jonathan at his right hand and Jace at his left.

Hodge Starkweather, who apparently usually took his left hand, seemed deeply displeased when Jace took his seat, and Jace had had to bite down on his lip to keep from asking him loudly if it wasn't too late for them to do tradesies.

Though it was obvious that Jace was on Valentine's shit list, he still clearly outranked the rest of the Circle as he was sitting at his side.

_Oh what an honor…_Jace said in a high pitched teary voice in his head as he pushed his food around with his fork. _I'd like to thank Lucifer, who spawned my father…You're the best Lucy! …God this is gunna be a long night…_

The conversation at the dinner table spanned all sorts of uncomfortable subjects, but even Jonathan seemed like he wanted to get up and leave when the men started talking about women.

The Circle members were all roaring with laughter as a big man named Blackburn finished a racy story about a woman he had met in Spain who evidently had a mouth like a vacuum cleaner.

Jace reached his hand out for his glass of wine and unfortunately, couldn't stop the eye roll that happened as he took a drink.

Blackburn wiped his eyes and looked across the table at him.

"Oh what's the matter boy? Don't think it's funny do you?"

Jace met his eyes from across the table. He was sitting next to Jonathan, so he was pretty high up in the order, but Jace didn't really care.

"Oh I'm sure it was funny. The look on her face when you whipped it out must have been priceless…"

Jace's eyes sparkled as he raised his hand and held his thumb and index finger about an inch and a half apart. Then in a high voice he said,

"Oh, _Dios mio, senior, que es tan__pequeño como…taquito!" _ Jonathan choked into his cup of wine as he laughed loudly.

Blackburn's face flushed scarlet and Jace dropped his hand and said in his voice, a smile pulling up his lips, "_No me gusta…" _

Valentine flashed his eyes at Jonathan, who immediately stopped smiling and Blackburn looked over at him furiously with a look that said, 'Can you not control your kid?'.

Valentine responded with a smiling look that said, 'He is only a child, _you _put him in his place'.

Jace looked back over at Blackburn and raised his eyebrows; 'Go ahead and try…'

Blackburn gave him what he imagined was supposed to be a threatening look and Jace grinned in return; his eyes brightening even more at the man's foolishness.

"You think you know so much about women? You are just a little boy, I doubt you have even lost your virginity yet." he spat at him.

Jace smirked but didn't reply. "Well go ahead then, tell us of one of your female conquests if you think to match me."

Jace glanced at his father. Valentine took a sip of his wine.

"I would very much like to hear about your young lady from Alicante as a matter of fact." he said finally.

Jace stared at him. Valentine's eyes glimmered the way they did when Jace thought he truly wished to punish him. Jace dropped his eyes.

"If you insist." he said to his plate.

And then, still staring down, he began to describe for them all the girl that his father and brother believed was a lie he had created to save himself.

"She's short," he began in a soft, thoughtful voice. "Almost ridiculously short. But her energy and just the way she holds herself makes her seem twelve feet tall."

The table was quiet, all eyes on him as he was picturing Clary in his mind.

"She has bright red hair, like fire…" now Jace looked up, and the Circle members were drawn to the tone of his voice and his facial expressions as easily as they were drawn to his father's.

"And it bounces when she walks because she has this swagger in her step." Jace said with a grin, like he was seeing her walking in front of him at that very moment, enticing him with the sway of her hips.

"And she's got these eyes…so green you can still see them when she has them closed."

Jonathan looked across the table at him. Either he was the best bullshitter in the world or this girl was real and Jace was smitten.

"What's her name?" he asked him. Jace looked up, almost surprised, like he had forgotten everyone was there.

"Karly." he said, lowering his eyelashes a little as he said it. Blackburn chuckled.

"Hm, red hair and green eyes? Was her last name Fairchild?" he said as he flicked an amused glance over at Valentine. Jace followed his glance and saw that his father's face was completely blank.

"Uh, I don't know I never asked." Blackburn laughed again and finished his wine.

"Thatta boy. Don't need to know their names just get what you want from them and be done with em. You are your father's boy, I'll tell you-"

"Jace go to your room."

Jace didn't have to look at him to tell that Valentine was mad. He slid up out of his chair all too greatfully and started to the door.

"You too, Jonathan."

Jonathan made a 'what the hell did I do?' face but got up anyways, knowing from his tone as well that he should just do as he was told.

Jonathan pushed out of the door and found Jace standing there, his face in a frown, before he moved aside and let Jonathan walk past him.

Jonathan looked back over his shoulder and saw Jace still standing at the door, now with his ear to it and the same frown on his face. Jonathan came back and stood next to him for a second before reaching out and carefully pushing the door open a crack so they could see inside the room.

Valentine was staring across the table at Blackburn, who now knew he had done something wrong.

"Blackburn, do you not recall me saying that I never wanted to hear that name again?" he asked in a soft voice.

"What, still in love with her are you?" he joked halfheartedly. Valentine continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"And then you have the audacity to say it in front of my children…" Jace and Jonathan looked at eachother; this wasn't going to end well.

"Oh come now Valentine, I'm sure he didn't mean any disrespect by it." Starkweather said quietly. Valentine's eyes burned black as they settled back on Blackburn's face.

"Did you?" he asked in a cold, quiet voice.

"Of course not. I merely wanted to reminisce about Jocelyn. She was quite a woman."

For a long time, Valentine was silent. Then he stood up and walked to the mantle where he opened up a cherry oak box and removed a cigar and a silver lighter. He glanced back over at Blackburn as he closed the box, a bright gleam lighting his eyes and making him look younger.

"That she was." he smiled.

He took a few slow steps around the table, the cigar held lightly between his fingers.

"In some ways she was like the best cigar…"he held it up for all the men to see. "Exquisite. Dignified. And smooth to the touch…" the men chuckled as Valentine cocked an eyebrow.

Then he flicked the lighter on. "And when you lit her just right…" he placed the cigar between his lips and lit the end, puffing on it gently. "She'd stay hot until the very end." he said after he exhaled the plume of smoke.

The men all made appreciative noises except Blackburn, who was pouring himself more wine.

"It wasn't fair of you Valentine. To keep such a sweet little thing like Jocelyn all to yourself."

"Pardon?" Valentine had come around the table and was standing at his shoulder, still smoking his cigar with ease.

"I'm sure she _was_ a little fireball. You should've sent her my way, I could've really made her burn-"

It happened so fast, no one had time to do anything but sit there.

Valentine reached down, his arms a blur, and snapped Blackburn's neck with a sick crack that sounded like a shot fired.

Jace couldn't stop his gasp at the sudden violence of it but luckily it was covered by the sound of Blackburn's limp form falling forward onto the table, the force of his head upsetting his newly filled glass of wine and causing a dark stain to spread across the table cloth like violet blood.

The Circle members were still with shock. Valentine puffed on his cigar.

"You couldn't have handled her." he said to the back of Blackburn's head.


	28. Chapter 28

**Merry Christmas my loyal reader and responders. Are you ready for your present? ;) All I have to say about this chapter is...Ah. Revenge is _so_ sweet. Enjoy, my dears...oh and a special thanks to OmgAdot for inspiring me to write and post this before Christmas =)**

Jonathan slowly pulled his hand back and let the door of the dinning room swing closed. Jace stood there for two seconds before turning and striding away towards his room. Jonathan followed after him.

"Wait, Jace. Slow down. Who do you think Jocelyn Fairchild was?" he asked as he caught up with him. Jace didn't answer as he took the stairs three at a time.

"I don't care." he said.

"Well obviously she's somebody important…I mean shouldn't we find out-" Jace had stopped suddenly, and Jonathan had to nearly throw himself around his body to avoid crashing into him. Then Jonathan turned back around to face him.

"You know what…" Jace raised his eyes up to Jonathan's. "I think I remember reading that name in one of the books in father's study that night he caught me. I bet it's still in there." Jonathan raised his eyebrows curiously.

"You think?"

"Yeah why would he move it?" Jonathan didn't have an answer for this. Jace made his face carefully blank.

"Wanna go check it out?" Jonathan looked at him like he was crazy.

"What right now?"

"Well yeah, now would be the best time since he's distracted with the Circle." Jonathan deliberated for a second.

"Yeah, alright." Then he turned and started to walk back down the hall in the direction of Valentine's study.

"Well wait we can't go back that way, what if they see us?" Jonathan turned back.

"Well then how are we going to get into his study?" Jace grinned.

"When you can't go through the house…go on top of it." Jonathan didn't look convinced.

"So you think we should go across the roof and break in through the window?"

"'Break' is such a harsh word. We'll just be entering. You still have my stele," he pointed down to it, looped in Jonathan's belt.

"If it's locked we can just unlock it. Then we'll be in and out before he even notices. He's so busy right now anyways…" Jace could tell he still wasn't entirely convinced.

"And I think you're right. I mean, obviously this Jocelyn person was somebody important. We should figure out who she is. But quietly." Jonathan hooded his eyes.

"Duh." Jace smiled.

"Well come on then." he turned and continued on to his room. "We'll go out my window since it's right here." After a second, Jonathan followed him.

Jace pushed open the door of his room and then left it open for Jonathan, feeling a twinge of annoyance when he entered despite the fact that he had invited him. Jonathan shut the door behind him. Jace walked to the window and heaved it up.

"Okay, you go first," he said as he turned away. "I'm gunna grab my witchlight so we don't have to turn any lights on once we're inside."

"Good thinking." Jonathan said as he put a booted foot up on the sill and heaved himself out onto the flat roof outside of Jace's bedroom.

When he was outside, Jace turned to look at his fireplace with a sinister smile that was so small it barely changed his expression.

Out on the roof, Jonathan stopped and looked out over their darkened fields.

Far in the distance, he could see the edge of the forest, so dark now that it looked straight out of a children's fairytale. The forest that the parents warned their children to never enter, because a witch lived in their depths or a clan of hungry goblins who feasted on little kid flesh.

Jonathan smirked; he'd _love _to see a fae try to eat _him._

He heard Jace come out of the window behind him, and turned to ask him what had taken so long, when he saw a flash of blonde and iron, and felt a horrible crack in his side.

Jonathan fell down to the roof with a loud yell, clutching his ribs in agony. Jace stood over him, holding an iron fire poker in his hand.

"Wow...after all that's happened, Jonathan, you trust me enough to be alone with me?" he asked, a look of humorous disbelief on his face.

"How stupid can you be?" he asked before he aimed a hard kick at the ribs he knew he had cracked.

The force of it sent Jonathan rolling down to the edge of the roof, where his long legs whipped over, and if he hadn't frantically clawed his hands on the shingles like a drowning cat, he would have gone over the edge entirely.

As it were, he managed to grip the side of the roof tightly, stopping himself from plummiting three stories down to the hard concrete below.

Jonathan gasped and tried to pull himself back onto the roof, but couldn't, as the pain of his broken ribs made it impossible.

He groaned and looked down, thinking about whether it would be better for him if he just let go. With the thought of a three story drop to a hard surface with already damaged ribs in his mind, Jonathan looked back up at Jace.

_Angel Boy_ wouldn't really let him fall. He was just trying to scare him.

But as Jace slowly ambled over to the edge of the roof, twirling the iron lightly in his fingers with a charming smile on his face, Jonathan had to admit that it was working.

He tightened his grip on the edge, not able to stop the groan of pain that the movement caused his ribs.

Jace dropped down onto the roof facing Jonathan, crossing his legs in front of him as he sat down while running his eyes over the length of the fire poker in his hand, that angelic smile still on his face.

Then he flicked his eyes over to Jonathan's, who felt a flicker of trepidation when he saw the laughing malice in them, like the whole situation was very funny to him.

Then, still looking at him, Jace set the tip of the poker down onto the back of Jonathan's hand, holding it in his fist like he would a spear.

Jonathan met his eyes; and to his horror, gave Jace a scathing look that said, 'you wouldn't do it…you don't have it in you to be cruel'. The look seemed to happen on reflex, and as soon as he threw it at him, Jonathan immediately regretted it.

Something dark seemed to come forth in Jace's eyes and as Jonathan was staring, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of an evil twin of his younger brother, Jace flipped the iron in his palm and raised it high over his head before bringing it down onto the back of Jonathan's hand with all the strength he could manage.

Jonathan cried out as the iron struck him, breaking the bones of his fingers and the knuckle above his pinkie. Jace flicked a glance over his shoulder at his open window, before bringing his slow, amused gaze back to Jonathan's face.

Jonathan groaned loudly as he gripped the edge of the roof with his broken fingers, knowing that he would be hurting much worse if he let go.

Jace then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and spoke to him, mere inches from his face.

"Close your eyes, Jonathan…." he said in a soothing voice, though the bright cruel anger in his eyes did nothing to soothe Jonathan. Jace raised the iron again. "Pain is only what you allow it to be…" he said in a ironic voice, tinged with humor.

And then he brought the iron down onto his broken hand a second time, with somehow more force than he had the last.

Jonathan cringed; his hand releasing the edge momentarily seconds after the blow, before he quickly gripped the roof again, feeling like his aching fingers had turned into tubes of toothpaste with marbles shoved in them.

Jonathan quieted as Jace raised the iron to his lips, a slow gesture that said, 'Shhh…'.

Then, dropping the iron down away from his smiling mouth, Jace leaned forward on his elbows again.

"I know. It doesn't really help much does it?" he asked him in a confiding voice.

Jonathan stared up at him, wondering again just how bad the drop to the ground would be.

"I found, that when you repeat something over and over and over to yourself, it just looses all meaning." His eyes seemed to sparkle. "What do you think?"

Jonathan wouldn't answer him.

Jace smiled and dropped his eyelashes before leaning his cheek down into the cup of his right palm, the poker raised in his left. Then he dropped the iron back down onto Jonathan's hand, now rapping each broken finger, one after the other, like a child playing the xylophone.

And it was true that when he raised his eyes back up to Jonathan's and smiled, now hitting his shattered fingers so hard Jonathan's arms were shaking, he looked very playful indeed.

When he had finished tapping the beat to '_Jingle Bells' _on his fingers (ending the final 'sleigh' with a hit so hard Jonathan punctuated it with a gasp), he turned his attention to Jonathan's other hand.

"I wouldn't want this one to feel left out." he said with a smirk as he lazily swung the iron over to Jonathan's right hand.

He raised it up over his head, saw Jonathan wince at the coming pain, and then stopped. Jonathan opened his eyes.

Then, still looking at those black eyes that had been filled with so much child-like joy as he had cut into Jace like he would a birthday cake, Jace flipped the iron over in his hand once more, so that he was again holding it like a spear.

Jace reached down and gripped Jonathan's wrist tightly, holding it in place while he raised the point of the poker high above his head…

"Wait, Jace don't, please don't…" Jonathan gasped. Jace looked down at him with narrowed eyes.

"Give me _one _good reason why I shouldn't skewer you like a fucking fish." he whispered with deadly calm.

Jonathan eyed the tip of the poker, no longer believing that Jace didn't have the guts to stab it through his hand.

"Because it's what he wants you to do, he wants you to hurt me." Jace only stared back at him.

"I know that." he said.

And the look in his eyes told Jonathan that he didn't care either. That he was far past the point of caring if he did what Valentine wanted, especially if it meant that he would get brief satisfaction in the process. Jace raised the poker up higher.

"So you're just giving up?" Jonathan asked, surprised at the way it had come out sounding like he wasn't at all panicked, but instead like he was genuinely asking, and that he was even a little disappointed. Jace lowered his eyelashes.

"You did. So why shouldn't I?" he asked back quietly, though his voice was now edged with anger.

Jonathan ignored the ache in his arms from holding himself onto the side of the house, ignored the sick feeling of his broken hand, and ignored the pain in his ribs that made even breathing hurt…

"Because you're better than that." he said.

Then he looked away and continued in a tone that was somewhat bitter. "I mean, why do you think I call you 'Angel Boy'?"

"To spite me." Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"Because it's true, Jace." _He even told me it was…_

For a long time, Jace could only look at him. And then, finally, he lowered the iron and set it behind him on the roof.

Jonathan couldn't stop the small relieved sigh that escaped him. Jace smiled at him, all traces of cruelty gone from his eyes.

Then he sat up onto his knees and reached his hand down to Jonathan, while gripping the wooden beam of the edge of the fancy widow's walk that ran along down the roof to his left.

Jonathan stared at his hand, not knowing if he should trust him after all that happened. But Jace's eyes were clear, and if you couldn't trust an angel…

Jonathan gratefully released the edge of the roof with his left hand and quickly reached up for Jace's outstretched hand.

Jace gripped it tightly, making Jonathan's broken fingers hurt even more, before he began pulling him up.

It was difficult though and no progress was made because Jace wouldn't let go of the wooden beam for fear that Jonathan would pull him down, and Jonathan wouldn't let his good hand release the edge of the roof for fear Jace would drop him.

"You're gunna have to trust me, Jonathan." Jace grunted as he kept trying to heave him up.

Jonathan kicked his legs, thinking that it would give him the boost he needed so he could get high enough to pull himself up, but all the motion did was slam his ribs into the house.

"Come on," Jace said as his brother cried out in pain. "Just let go, I won't let you fall."

Not being able to take hanging helplessly off the side of his own house anymore, Jonathan let go of the roof and reached his hand out.

Jace let go of the post and grabbed it, and was able to pull him up.

Just as soon as Jonathan's knee was balanced precariously on the edge of the roof, Jace stopped pulling.

He slid down onto his knees in front of Jonathan and leaned close, practically hugging him, and whispered into his ear.

"Haha…"

Then he drew back just far enough to see Jonathan's eyes, so he was able to witness the emotions his brother was feeling as soon as he felt them.

First there was the confusion at his whisper, then the dawning realization as he saw in Jace's dark eyes what he intented to do next.

And then, finally…_there_ was that bitter look of betrayal that Jace had been so longing to see in the black eyes of the boy who had so cruely and mercilessly reminded him that they were _not _brothers…

As soon as Jace saw it, he yanked his arms away from Jonathan's and shoved him backwards with both hands.

Time seemed to slow down then, just between the two of them.

In the second before Jace's hands connected with Jonathan's shoulders, he saw an emotion he had not bargained for.

It was a look of still resignation; a look that said, 'I know I deserve this."

And then Jace's hands connected, and the deep black eyes flew wide with surprise at being out over empty open air, and he heard the small gasp from him that was as quiet as a breath, but still so loud in the calm night around them…and then Jonathan was gone.

Jace stared out at the place where he had been, his heart thudding inside his chest like it never had before.

He gripped the post again, so tightly the wood groaned, and slowly leaned over to look down.

Jonathan was on his back, three stories down on the hard pavement.

He groaned once and then immediately started coughing. And even from his position on the roof, Jace could hear the wet sounds his coughs made, and knew that it meant he was bleeding somewhere inside.

Jonathan's coughs subsided and he looked up at Jace, red blood lining the inside crease of his lips.

And looking up at Jace, crouched on one knee and high above him, where Jonathan thought he belonged, he still couldn't help but think that he looked like an angel.

Even with his eyes bright like this, with so much anger and regret in them, he knew Jace was still the closest thing to an angel that he would ever see.

Sure, Jace's wings were a bit darker than most's...but he was an angel nonetheless.


	29. Chapter 29

Hey you guys,

Sorry that it's been like four months since I've last updated. And I'm especially sorry to those who took the time to message me to get going again. Life for me has been kinda crazy but I'm here again! So I have good news and bad news. The bad news is I started writing the next chapter last night, and my stupid effing phone didn't save it. It was turning out so good too =( I swear there is no shittier feeling than spending hours writing something and then have it not save. This sounds dramatic I know but I almost threw up lol. I'm still incredibly pissed about it but no worries because I'm going to rewrite it, better than it was the first time =) And that is the good news! Another chapter is coming soon (actually soon, not months from now) and I promise you guys wont be disappointed. My writing process is kind of sporadic if you couldn't tell…I'll not think about the story at all and then one day I just feel like writing more of it so I sit down and do it. And usually, unless something happens, once I sit down to write a part I won't stop until it's finished. So yay for that! Lol so I'll get busy and yeah, I can't wait to hear what you guys think of the new chapter. (hint hint: it will be another Jace and Jonathan scene, then it will go into Alec and Magnus. Then Valentine's master plan is going to be revealed and the love hate relationship between the brothers will be tested once again. ) Get ready for it!

love always,

Dallas


	30. Chapter 30

*Here it is guys, hope you enjoy =) as always, all characters n story info belong to CC. And a tip for later: Google Translate is our friend. Tell me what you think, good or bad, cause I love to hear feedback. Totally makes muh day =) Yeah, anyways, enjoy!*

"And what did Dante and the Poets discover when they came upon the Fifth Circle? Jonathan?" Jonathan flicked his dark eyes up from the thick book in front of him to look at the professor.

"Phlegyas. The boatman of the river Styx." he answered in a bored tone.

"Don't forget the Rebel Angels, brother." Jonathan leaned his elbow down onto his desktop and cradled his cheek in his palm before sweeping a sideways look over at Jace, who was grinning back at him with shiny eyes.

"Thanks." he said dully. Jace winked back at him.

"Correct you both are. And what happened when the group came to the Rebel Angels? And why were they to be feared? Jace?"

Jace stretched his long legs out in front of him, knees almost brushing the underside of his desk, while wishing the lesson were over before he completely forgot how to walk.

"The Rebels wouldn't let them pass. They were to be feared because these were the Angels that followed Lucifer out of Heaven."

"Right. And how did the group get past them?" Professor Lehman volleyed his eyes back over to Jonathan.

"Uh. They asked for help from…"

Jonathan dropped his eyes back down to the page, trying to locate the name. However he soon realized that he wasn't even in the right canto. He began flipping pages, wondering how he had ended up in the Purgatorio section when they were still in the Inferno.

"Um," he glanced over at Jace, who was no help as he was busy making an origami swan out of one of the back pages of the text.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and stopped trying to find the page that he was supposed to be on. "I don't know." he said. The professor frowned at him sternly.

"You were supposed to have read this last week, Jonathan."

Jonathan slouched down in his chair, refusing to admit to the instructor why he had not done the homework. "Very well, you can reread the canto today, and write me an essay discussing the background lore on Heavenly Messengers."

Jonathan's eyes flashed angrily. Lehman raised an eyebrow. "Or I can inform your father that you've been neglecting your studies. It's your choice."

Jonathan dropped his glare back down to his book, his eyes falling on a map drawing of the city of Dis, Hell's capital. He would be living in Dis if Valentine found out he hadn't been doing his assignments.

Though it was really Jace's fault he hadn't done his last assignment; kind of hard to read and focus on _The Divine Comedy _after just being tricked and shoved off a three story rooftop.

And looking over at him now, Jonathan found it difficult to see the cruel, laughing Jace that had broken his hand with a fire iron when he was just sitting there looking like a golden angel, innocently focused on making the wings of a paper bird flap.

But Jonathan now knew better than to trust that deceptively innocent face; Jace was just as cunning as his father.

"Very well," Lehman said again as he went to the blackboard and began inscribing their next assignment. "You are to read on to the Sixth Circle and write a brief summary describing Dante's discoveries there; _in Italiano, naturalmente." _

The Morgenstern boys stifled their groans, knowing that their strict professor would only lengthen the assignment if they didn't.

"You may begin now." Lehman said as he dropped the chalk into the tray and resummed his seat at his large desk.

Jace flicked his eyes over at Jonathan, who had slunk further down into his chair and was staring at the same spot on the page in front of him, clearly not reading.

Jace flicked the paper swan across the space between them, making it fly and come to a light descent on top of Jonathan's book.

Jonathan glanced at it in annoyance before moving his palm down away from his face to sweep it off his desktop.

He noticed then that there were swirls of ink bleeding through its wings, so he closed his hand over the swan and swept it down into his lap, wondering as he began to unfold it what Jace thought was so important he had to risk getting them reprimanded for passing notes for.

_**How's your hand? **_

Jonathan looked over at Jace, who was smiling at him. Jonathan flipped him off.

"All better I see." Jace whispered, his smile widening.

"No thanks to you." Jonathan breathed back. Jace raised his eyebrows.

"Well technically it was my stele that healed you so if you think about it I really did help-"

"Jace. I know you can't be reading with your face turned away from your book like that." Lehman said loudly. Jace turned in his seat.

"I'm trying out this innovative new way of reading a book without actually looking at it. So far it's proven difficult. "

"Well I suggest you revert back to the old method as soon as possible, before I make you read it out loud as punishment for your cheekiness." Jace smirked.

"_Oh no professore per favore, non mi fate parlare Italiano!"_ Jace clasped his hands together in front of him imploringly, as Lehman fought the urge to smile.

"_Allora ti suggerisco di darsi da fare, Signor Morgenstern." _Jace nodded his head once, smiling, as Jonathan rolled his eyes; his brother could charm just about everyone.

"_Sissignore_."

Lehman returned to his work as Jace glanced down at his book, his eyes skimming over the lines without comprehension.

Jonathan noticed that somehow his face still gave the impression of smiling though he no longer was. Jace felt eyes on him before flicking his own over at his brother.

"_Che cosa?" _he whispered. Jonathan narrowed his eyes and spoke quieter than Jace had, though he spoke with much rapidity in his tone.

"_Stronzate…Angel Boy piccolo ottiene sempre via con tutto." _he sneered. Jace cocked an eyebrow.

"_Geloso?"_ Jonathan narrowed his eyes, then smiled meanly.

"_Non a tutti ... la fortuna può arrivare a tanto_," then his eyes filled with his signature deadly sparkle as they skimmed down Jace's chest over the healing cuts he knew were concealed under Jace's white t-shirt. "_Ovviamente." _

Before Jace could make more than an expression of anger, there was a sudden smell of burning paper, along with a corresponding crackle.

Jace snatched the fire message off his desktop and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans, burning his palm slightly on the still smoldering edges of the paper.

Jonathan stared at him darkly, black eyes filled with sinister suspicion. Jace gave him a threatening look of warning before picking up his heavy book and resolutely disappearing behind it.

The crickets concealed beneath the crisp forest leaves all silenced their symphony as Jace walked stealthy through the dense woods at the edge of the Manor.

Though he loved to be among trees and wildlife, these trees brought him no sense of peace. There was the towering skeleton of a maple, its limbs burned black; a dead remnant of the occasion Jonathan Morgenstern had discovered fire.

His brother had found him high up near the top, jumping branches like they were stepping stones, and had yelled at Jace to get down. But Jace had only laughed and kept climbing, now only using one hand to steady himself from falling.

Jace had known that Jonathan did not want him back on the ground for fear of his safety; he only did it because he didn't want him enjoying himself.

They were fifteen at the time, and their hatred had not been like it was now, but still Jace had not expected Jonathan to pull out his stele and carve into the bark the rune for fire when Jace had ignored his command.

Jace remembered suddenly being able to smell smoke that was so close and thick he could taste it on his tongue. Then, looking down, he saw the flames hungrily licking up the splayed branches, getting closer to him with every passing second.

He had had no choice but to jump.

Jonathan stepped back as he landed, and though the sound of the fire was loud, Jace was sure the sound of his ankle breaking on impact was louder.

Their father had been furious of course; having been just nearby in the training field he had come running when he saw smoke billowing up out of the trees.

He had arrived at the scene in time to witness Jace jump from the top of the tree and land hard on the ground in front of his laughing brother who, in between gasps of mirth, had said 'I give it a solid 8.9!"

Valentine had put out the fire and punished his sons, much to Jace's angry disbelief, and from then on they weren't allowed to go into the forest by themselves because they 'couldn't be trusted to not act stupidly'.

And now as the remains of the tree were at his back, Jace wondered how he had not managed to dispel his stupidity in the past two years.

Here he was walking through the dense trees with the sole intention of doing something that would enrage his father to the point of stroke, and Jace realized that it truly seemed that his stupidy had only tripled since the last time he had been here.

Jace stopped when he belived he was deep enough in the trees, then leaned back against a thick trunk and crossed his arms; preparing himself to wait.

The sudden silence of the crickets made him look up.

"I swear, you're just like a hunting dog the way you can sense things." Alec Lightwood said as he immerged out of the gloom, smiling at the sight of the other Shadowhunter. Jace grinned.

"And you're getting better at 'the whole sneakiness thing'." Alec stopped in front of him, hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, a lot of good it did me." he laughed. Jace returned his smile.

"And how is my sneakiness, sugar sweet?"

The voice came from his right shoulder, and Jace had to repress the instinct of spinning towards it in alarm. Instead he managed to only flick a look over at the warlock who was reclined against the same tree as he was, with his cat eyes glinting in the dark.

"Your sneakiness is quite evolved, Magnus Bane." Jace said, not liking the way the Downworlder was smiling at him like he was a steak.

"Much obliged, Morgenstern."

"So Jace," Jace returned his gaze to the blue eyed Nephilim. "It's been awhile. I was half expecting you to never get my message about meeting us here tonight due to your untimely death." Jace laughed.

"Nope, I'm still standing." Alec's face slipped into a worried frown.

"Did he end up catching you then?"

"Oh yeah."

"Was he really pissed?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"What did he do?" he asked it hesitantly, like he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Jace knew that he didn't.

"Not much. Straight to bed without supper, that kind of thing." Alec narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

"And for how many _days_ did he do this?" Magnus interjected. Jace rolled his eyes.

"Anyways. What's going on have you managed to figure out how to reverse the demon spell he put on me?" Magnus straightened up off the tree trunk.

"Yes in fact I have. It's tricky though. You'll need to get me a physical part of your little demon friend. A tooth, claw, drop of blood, anything." Jace frowned.

"I don't even know if that's possible. I only see him in my head." Alec winced, clearly imagining what that must be like.

"Sounds like a good time," Magnus said lightly. "Listen, the next time he…pays you a visit, just try to get something off him. It wouldn't hurt to try."

"Hopefully," Alec said, before sliping his thumb nail between his teeth. Magnus looked over at him.

"Alexander. You're doing it again." he chided. Alec dropped his hand as he shrugged.

"I don't realize it." Magnus smiled, his voice coming out throaty like a purr,

"You'd have chewed down to your wrist by now if not for me."

Jace cleared his throat, sensing there would be more talk like this to come. Alec was thankful his blush was not visible in the darkness.

"Oh and the other reason why we wanted you to meet us," Alec said as he looked back over at Jace. "My family has gone back to New York."

Jace's heart began to sink; Alec seemed to sense it because he spoke slower, like he didn't want to continue.

"Which means Clary has also gone back home." Jace processed this.

"Good. That's uh, that's good." Alec looked confused.

"Why is that good?" Jace leaned back against the tree, arms crossed against his agony pierced heart.

_Because I'm starting to miss her too much, _he thought miserably.


	31. Chapter 31

*Here it is, my 30th chapter. I never thought it would go this long! Thanks for inspiring and encouraging me along the way you guys. Your reactions and responses make it so worthwhile, I just love entertaining you all with this story lol. So even though this chapter is a wee bit shorter than the last, it makes up for it in content. Enjoy =), oh and I finally figured out how to make these nifty little page breaks...I'm slow. lol*

* * *

Jace lie awake staring at the darkened ceiling. He hadn't even bothered undressing, instead choosing to just collapse onto his bed still clad in his jeans and white t-shirt.

He was conflicted; torn between being glad he would most likely never see Clary again and miserable because he would most likely, never see Clary again.

How could such a brief encounter with a girl change him so much? How could she have broken down the walls he had built around himself for so many years?

There were plenty of girls in his past, but not one came close to making him feel the feelings brought on by that little speck of a girl with the red hair.

A knock sounded across the room at his door.

"What?" he yelled.

"Master Morgenstern? Your father wishes you up and dressed in his study." replied Samuel. Jace groaned.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

Jace pulled himself up off his bed and crossed to the door. He pulled it open to reveal the butler on the other side.

"Did he say why he wanted to see me?" Samuel shook his head.

"No, sir. He did not."

Jace joined the butler in the hallway, while pulling closed the door behind him.

"Great. I love after midnight surprises when they involve my father."

Jace pushed open the door of the study and his eyes fell upon Jonathan, who was sitting in one of the straight backed wooden chairs in front of Valentine's desk.

Their eyes met, and Jonathan smirked.

"Jace. Sit down please."

His father's voice came from near the fireplace. Jace took the seat next to Jonathan, all the while not breaking the staring contest with his pitch black eyes.

Now that they were right next to eachother, Jace gave him a look that said, 'You better not have snitched on me, you little rat.'

Jonathan replied with a challenging look that said back, 'So what if I did? What are you going to do about it?'

Jace only flicked his eyes over to the fireplace, to the rack of assorted iron pokers. Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"So Jace, you're probably wondering why you've been summoned here at such a late hour."

Jace tore his stare away from his brother and looked at Valentine, who was now standing in front of them, leaning a hip back against his desk. Jace shrugged.

"A smart man told me to never be curious about things." Valentine laughed at the flattery.

"And you believe he knew what he was saying when he told you this?"

Jace dipped his head, slim fingers draping over the ends of the chair arms.

"Yes, sir." Valentine chuckled again.

"Very good, very good. I like this new you, Jace. You're much more…agreeable." Jace subtly clenched his teeth.

"Now, to business." Valentine crossed his massive arms across his chest and looked down at his two sons.

"There is something that you both are going to do for me tonight…a mission of sorts. It is a very important task, so I trust you both know what awaits you should you not complete it."

The boys were silent. Valentine continued.

"I expect you both to work together as seamless partners in doing this task. Be quiet, professional, and most importantly, be lethal. What you will be doing will be dangerous, and _when_ you succeed and return home, the course of our lives will change forever."

"Can you stop being so cryptic and just tell us what we're doing?" Jace interrupted. Valentine shot him a warning look.

"_You _don't need to know what you're doing at all. Jonathan knows. Your job is to be his backup and to not slow him down. I want you to watch out for eachother, and more importantly, the object you are going to retrieve for me."

It took all of Jace's willpower to not throw an 'I fucking told you so' look over at his brother.

However, it was unnecessary, for Jonathan had understood what their father had just said to them just as well as Jace had.

Valentine stepped away from his desk as he gestured down at the weapons covering its surface.

"Prepare yourselves; you'll be leaving shortly."

The boys stood and Jonathan strapped on his belt, which was already laden with an assortment of blades shoved through the heavy loops. Jace stared at his own belt as Jonathan threw on an empty sheath that crisscrossed his chest with its leather straps.

"I'm not going to walk into this blind." Jace said, directing the statement over his shoulder at the blonde man. Valentine's slow footsteps behind him had Jace preparing his body for sudden defense.

"You don't have a choice." Valentine hissed. Jace turned to look at him, and Valentine was shocked and enraged to see that fire of defiance in his eyes.

"You need me to do this for you. If you didn't, you'd just send Jonathan. Or you'd do it yourself. So yeah, Father, I do have a choice."

Jonathan had stopped moving, but the blades at his waist continued to sway and bump against eachother, causing the only sound in the quiet room.

"What a shame. And I had so hoped not to have to do this."

Even though Jace was prepared for it, he could not hold him off for very long.

Valentine was too strong; bending him backwards over the edge of the desk, the stele gripped tight in his left hand as Jace struggled in vain to push him away.

But it was a pointless battle, one that he had lost far too quickly.

Jace held on helplessly to what little air was still in his lungs as he was sunctioned down the tight, dark tube that crushed him between two walls of astonishing darkness.

Jace felt his ribs snap, one at a time, as the pressure increased around him and continued to rip him downward.

Jace gasped as the tube encasing him broke like an overstretched rubber band and dumped him to the floor.

He was shaking, trying to remember how to breathe, when the demon fell down upon him; cackling insane laughs through rotted teeth that turned the air around Jace putrid and diseased.

Jace tried to cringe away from its smile stretched face but couldn't because he was already locked tight inside his body.

The demon drew one long, broken black fingernail across the curve of Jace's cheek before pointing off into the darkness.

Wishing he could close his eyes against the coming pain, Jace prayed that the loved one he was about to see tortured was not someone with dazzling green eyes…

A young boy suddenly stood in the surrounding darkness, mere yards away from him. A spot of near blinding light beamed down on him, brightening his hair to resemble strands of sunlight.

Jace stared at him, unable to turn away even if he had wanted to.

Seven year old Jonathan Morgenstern looked like an angel; smiling happily down at him with his black, storm cloud eyes peaceful like Jace had never seen them before.

Suddenly, right before his eyes, something huge and white began to unfurl from Jonathan's shoulder blades. With a ruffle of feathers, breathtaking wings slowly opened up behind his brother, their color an immaculent bleached white.

A sudden sense of serentity stole over Jace as he watched Jonathan glance over his shoulder in quiet admiration of his wings.

Jace realized he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

Then there was a spot of darkness on Jonathan's left wing. Jace realized it was moving.

Long, bony fingers were drumming a light beat against the pristine feathers.

A splinter of fear pierced Jace's heart. The demon rose up behind Jonathan, its horrible form seeming to stretch up endlessly compared to the small height of the boy in front of it.

Then the hand holding Jonathan's wing tightened, as it's other hand curled around his pale throat, nails scratching against his jugular.

Then, without warning, the demon began to ferociously rip the wing clenched in its hand.

Jonathan screamed over the sound of wet tearing, his other wing beating frantically against the pain. With a sickening, meaty crunch, the demon tore Jonathan's wing from his back.

Jonathan fell to his knees, blood spurting from the ripped stump and collecting in puddles made even brighter by the light beaming down on the scene.

The demon then placed a sharp clawed foot on Jonathan's back and took his remaining wing in both hands, blood drenched fingers leaving smudges of scarlet on the white feathers.

It began to yank with what looked like all its inhuman strength as Jonathan folded in on himself, screaming, with his small hands gripping his hair in agony.

The demon then tossed the severed and destroyed wing to the ground with a cackle, before kicking Jonathan over to Jace.

Without realizing he could move again, Jace sat up onto his knees before reaching out and pulling the small form of his seven year old brother towards him by his shoulders.

Jonathan was shaking and sobbing, with bright flecks of blood spattered across his pale face and drying in his hair.

Jace tried to look past the long rips of skin and muscle in his back, tried to ignore the fact that he could see Jonathan's scarlet stained ribs as pulled him onto his lap and gently shushed him, not knowing how else to help.

Soon Jace was covered in his blood.

He could see it covering his forearms like paint and he could feel the warmth of it soaking thickly through his jeans. But worse, he could smell it. The hot, coppery scent of it invaded his nostrils and made him want to gag.

Jonathan peered up at him, eyelids twitching in pain that had not yet left his body. He tried to speak to him, but all that passed his lips was a rattling breath.

Jace held him tighter, rocking him, while streams of warmth trickled down his cheeks.

"Please…please," Jace crooned hoplessly.

Jonathan's eyes began to dull over, but he still would not die. Jace knew that he was going to slowly bleed to death from the ragged rips down the length of his back.

There was suddenly a spine tingling voice at Jace's left shoulder.

"Well what do you know," the demon said in its dry, nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. "You do care for him."

Jace whipped around and blindly grabbed at the demon's face, nails leaving long gashes down its red-black skin.

The demon jerked back away from him, laughing madly. "And just for that," it said before grandly gesturing down at Jonathan. "He'll die slower."

Jace could not turn his face back down to Jonathan's, and was glad for it because the awful sounds his brother was making was breaking his heart; he did not need the added visual pain.

_Stop, just please stop! _Jace screamed in his head.

Jace gasped when he opened his eyes and saw the tall, seventeen year old Jonathan staring down at him, dark eyes shadowed over with concern.

Jace clenched his arms around his stomach, not believing that it was truly over until he looked down and saw for himself that there was no little boy body drenching his lap with blood.

Jace shuddered and groaned with a mixture of relief and residual horror, as Valentine stepped around him and hauled him to his feet.

"Compose yourself, Jace. You have a mission to do." Valentine demanded.

But Jace would not look at him, and could not stop the trembling that caused goosebumps to rise up along his arms. Jonathan peered around Valentine's shoulder to glimpse Jace's face.

"Fine. Go to your room and recover for ten minutes. I need you coherent, Jace."

Jace did not move until his father pushed him towards the door.

He swayed slightly when he walked, which struck Jonathan as extremely odd because Jace was only ever drenched in natural gracefulness.

_What had he seen that was so horrible? _he wondered, as he unknowingly added the look Jace had given him upon first opening his eyes to his album of mental pictures that would haunt him in his nightmares.

Up in his room, Jace was numbly opening the drawers in his desk, searching detachedly for a small glass vial that he had stubbornly kept over the years, telling himself he never knew what he'd need it for but that he _would _need it.

When Jace found it, he struggled to unstopper it with still shaking fingers. Mentally berating himself, Jace took two deep breaths and forced himself to calm down.

_None of it was real, none of it was real…_

Soon he was calm enough to pull the small cork out of the vial, which he set down on his desktop before reaching back into the open drawer for the small, foldable pocket knife that was commonly used only by mundanes as it was too small to be of any use to the Nephilim.

Jace flipped the nail file out before slipping the thin point under one of his fingernails.

Then he set to work scraping out the red-black skin that was still gathered under the nails of his right hand, which was to be collected and stored in secret inside the little glass vial that was innocently sitting on his desk.


	32. Chapter 32

Jace and Jonathan spiraled out of the Portal together and landed in an empty alleyway, shoulder to shoulder. Jonathan immediately straightened the straps across his chest as Jace slowly took in their surroundings.

In the not so far distance, huge alight towers scraped the dark sky. The sight of this sky was odd to Jace; he had never seen the night missing its stars before.

"Where are we?" he mumbled. Jonathan, now finished checking his weapons, turned to Jace.

"New York. Manhatten, specifically." Jace quickly dropped his eyes down to Jonathan's.

"Are you serious?" Jonathan gave him a look.

"No," he said sarcastically before turning and striding to the mouth of the alley. "I lied; we're actually in Wonderland, little Alice."

Broken glass and gravel crunched underneath Jace's boots as he jogged to catch up with him, ignoring the sour smell that was permeating his nostrils from a nearby Dumpster.

"If I'm the little girl then you get to be Tweedle Dum-Ass." Jonathan ignored him.

"Come on, we have to get to the other side of the street." he said before stepping off the curb.

The two Shadowhunters darted across the busy street, effortlessly weaving in and out of yellow taxicabs. They briskly started up the other side of the pavement, not drawing so much as a glance from the passing mundanes though they were armed to the teeth with odd glass-like blades and daggers.

"Where are we going?" Jace asked, turning his head to the blonde boy at his shoulder.

"Don't ask questions." Jonathan replied.

"I don't know why you'd be okay with me being your backup when I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing."

"You'll see soon enough." Jonathan answered after a moment.

The streets of New York were congested with people of every shape and size, despite the late hour. They all seemed to move out of their way without realizing it, and this had Jace appreciating the usefulness of glamors for the first time.

Jace couldn't help but look at the faces of every woman they passed, hoping but not really expecting to see Clary amongst one of them.

He was distantly aware of it when they left the throngs of people and noise behind, though he wasn't paying strict attention; his training had left him with the ability to take in his surroundings effortlessly, and he was very aware of the subtle things in his enviornments.

To his left was an old yellow fire hydrant that he could leap to the top of for added height and force when delivering a downwards killing blow; and ahead of him, a rusty, wrought iron fence with untamed shrubs and blunted limbs poking out between the gaps-ideal for slamming vampires into and piercing their hearts through their backs with the wood of the branches.

Jonathan, steps ahead of Jace, stopped at the double gated entrance of what appeared to be an old cemetary.

Jace thought the gate very fitting; old iron encircling and guarding old bones.

Jonathan pushed the right gate open with a rusty sounding creak, then slipped lithely through the space he had created like water through a crack. Jace followed him silently, torso and hips rippling through the small space with effortless grace.

They crept along between graves, their boots avoiding dead leaves and twigs, when Jonathan suddenly stopped and crouched down behind a large mausoleum. Jace knelt down next to him, bumping Jonathan's knee with his own, before peering around him to see what he was staring at.

Off in the distance, peeking through the gloom like a gleaming tooth in the cavernous mouth of some giant beast, was a tall marble statue of an angel.

Jace squinted, and was able to see that there were words written on the translucent plaque at its feet.

Jace glanced over at Jonathan, who seemed to be humming with energy as he stared at the angel, with an almost hungry look like that of a hunter. The look unnerved Jace.

"What is it?" he asked. Jonathan didn't look at him as he answered.

"The entrance."

"To what…" Jonathan finally turned to him. His eyes seemed to glint, though Jace knew there was no source of light around them that could cast its reflection into their darkness.

"The Bone City."

Jace was stunned. He turned to look back at the fierce and beautiful angel, and now knew what was written on the stone at its feet. '_NEPHILIM: FACILIS DESCENSUS AVERNI'_

_…the descent into Hell is easy._

"But why-?"

"Jace," Jonathan turned on the balls of his feet to cast him a very serious and frustrated look. "No more questions. I'll tell you what you _need _to know." Jace narrowed his eyes but Jonathan continued. "We need to get into the City…but the trouble is, the door won't open to us in the usual way.

"Why-?"

"Shut up, Jace, " Jonathan's eyes flashed. "Just trust me when I say we can't walk up and enter normally...as other Nephilim would. But just because it won't open to us doesn't mean we can't get inside."

He waited for Jace's response. Jace cocked a tawny eyebrow.

"Oh, what, I can talk now?" Jonathan let out a breath of anger through his nose.

"Yes." he said through clenched teeth. Jace looked back over at the statue; guarding the dead city below its marble feet.

"So how are we supposed to enter then?" Jonathan smiled, unseen to Jace's turned body.

"We lure one of them out. The guardians are suckers for hurt Nephilim…especially underage hurt Nephilim." Jace scoffed.

"So what, d'you want me to stub my toe and make a huge scene about it? Will that get them running?"

"Not quite."

Jace turned back to him as he heard the sound of a dagger sliding out of its sheath. Before Jace had a moment to react to the weapon, Jonathan brought the blade down to the tough black material that covered his forearm and cut through it to the pale skin underneath.

Blood bloomed up out of the cut as Jonathan switched hands and then brought the blade up to the side of his throat, leaving a little cut there like the burning nick of a face razor. Jace frowned at him as Jonathan stashed the blade away back into his belt and then turned to him.

His black eyes were unreadable as he cupped a hand beneath the gash on his forearm and caught a pool of blood in his palm. Still meeting his eyes with ones of obsidian stone, Jonathan then smeared some of his blood across Jace's brow.

Jace froze, barely feeling it as Jonathan smudged some blood onto his opposite cheek.

Suddenly, the night around Jace was very cold, save for the scorching smears on his face.

His vision wavered as he looked down at the sticky redness that filled in the love and life lines in Jonathan's palm, and spidered out into smaller, feathered lines of blood that seemed to pulse like miniscule veins.

_A little boy with bright hair, screaming, and covered in red. His blood. Jace was covered in his blood…Jonathan's…_

"Jace."

Jonathan's voice had a sharp note in it. Jace blinked, forcing himself to look away from his brother's steadly trickling wound, _more red…_

"Jace!" Jonathan grabbed his face and made Jace look at him.

Jace cringed, knowing there was blood all over those fingers.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, but you need to pull yourself together." Jace's eyes were empty. "I'm going to need you to help me and you can't do that when you're catatonic and looking like you're living in a bad nightmare."

Jonathan dropped his hand to his shoulder and shook him a few times. Jace barely felt it, though noticed his spine seemed to be made of overcooked pasta.

"Jace, you're a soldier. Snap out of it! You have a mission, a very dangerous one, I might add. We could very easily be killed tonight, and if we return home without what we've come for…we're just as dead. I need your help, Jace."

Jace blinked stupidly, but then forced himself to focus.

"Okay. What do I need to do?" he mumbled.

Jonathan didn't speak for a moment, instead choosing to reach down and scoop up a handful of the soft dirt they were kneeling on. He then dumped it over Jace's head, before rubbing it into his hair and smudging some down the side of his face and chin.

Then, completley weirded out that Jace had not protested him ruffling grave dirt into his perfect golden hair, Jonathan continued to made Jace appear as though he had just come out of battle.

Finally, when both boys were sufficiently dirty and stained with blood, Jonathan brushed his hands together and stood up.

Jace silently mirrored his movements, wondering as he did why Jonathan had chosen to cut only himself, and not Jace as well. Jonathan had slipped the blade back out and used it to rip a fissure into the material at Jace's shoulder, but did not cut the skin beneath.

Perhaps he thought he had cut Jace enough to last a lifetime. Or perhaps Jonathan was worried about weakening him when his mind seemed so injured already...

"So now what?" Jace asked him. Jonathan smiled, though the expression was more sinister than happy.

"Now we put on the show of our lives."

And with that, he threw an arm over Jace's shoulders and leaned his weight on him, limping as if there was something wrong with his leg. The boys stepped out from behind the mausoleum, Jace pretending to sag with the weight of his brother.

As they neared closer to the angel, Jonathan mussed his hand into his hair, making it fall forward to cover his down casted eyes.

Then, when they could see the blank pupil-less eyes of the statue, Jonathan turned towards Jace's ear and hissed,

"Come on you have to be convincing!" Jace clenched his right fist.

"Alright," he said, then punched Jonathan in the side as hard as he could.

"Ahhh!" Jonathan yelled as he doubled over for real, hand clenched to the ribs that Jace had undoubtly just bruised.

Jonathan panted, his eyes watering with pain. "Oh you son of a-"

"Help! Help somebody, please!" Jace yelled out into the night, his panicked voice bouncing off the many crumbling headstones and echoing all around them.

"Please! Anybody! We need he-!" Jace broke off as he saw the mouth of the angel open wide, as if it were screaming, before a large hole appeared at its feet, cut there in a perfect square like that of a fresh grave.

Somebody cloaked in parchment colored robes was gliding up out of the hole, their feet making no sound on the steps or the surrounding grass. Jace could see runes sewn into the material of the person's robes-runes for truth, knowledge, and, Jace's stomach gave a painful lurch-swift justice.

Suddenly Jonathan fell to his knees, head bent, pulling Jace down to the hard ground with him.

Jonathan was groaning and gasping, one blood stained hand gripping his side and the other digging painfully into Jace's shoulder, as if to remind him of something.

"Please, we need help. My brother-I don't know what's wrong with him. We were attacked-Forsaken, they were everywhere-"

_Jonathan Morgenstern. _

The voice sounded inside Jace's head, filling it up with a painful strength and pressure.

He winced, his hand that was not gripping Jonathan coming up to press tightly against his temple, all the while peering up at the shadowed face of the Silent Brother to whom they kneeled to.

_You are not welcome here. Taint fills your blood. Be gone from this most sacred place. _

Jonathan groaned beside him, and Jace knew that he too heard the voice that seemed to be unrelentlessly pressing down on his brain.

It happened before Jace could inhale his next breath.

Jonathan's cut forearm reached across his lap for the dagger at his side, his knees shot up off the ground and his legs straightened as he slashed viciously at the Brother's throat with his weapon.

The breath entered Jace's lungs painfully, disguised as a horrified gasp.

The Silent Brother's long, wrinkled hands clenched around his throat, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Before he really had a chance to stem the thick flow, Jonathan flipped the blade in his hand, gripped it tight and plunged it down into his robe covered chest with a sickening sound that Jace swore he would hear in nightmares.

Jonathan twisted the hilt hard to the right-and the Brother's knees gave way sending him facedown into the damp-smelling grass, inches from Jace's left hand.

Jace was breathing loudly, eyes wide and stuck on the scarred face that the hood had fallen back to reveal.

A trickle of dark blood escaped from the corner of the tightly sewn lips, and made Jace gag as he realized that the Brother that lie dying in front of him had a mouthful of the thick liquid that he could not spit out.

Jace tore his eyes away and stared up at his brother, not even aware that the dew of the grass he kneeled upon was soaking wetly through to his knees.

Jonathan was silhouetted in the darkness and staring down at the dead body of the Silent Brother he had just slain, with a sneer pulling at his mouth and so much cruelty in his eyes that Jace swore he was not looking upon the face of his brother, but the face of a Greater demon that was shamelessly wearing his skin.

"Jonathan…_what did you just do?_"


	33. Chapter 33

Hey everybody! So I added another chapter and for some reason it wasn't notifying anyone and I didn't get an email saying it had been posted. So I thought I would make this and see if that worked. The story is heading in a pretty intense direction and from the last chapter I bet most of you will predict what's going to happen next. However I will do my best to keep it from being monotonous and too much like the original story. So thanks guys, hope you enjoy! Oh and COLS was amazing right? I'm so excited for the next one, though its supposed to be the last one in the MI series. Ah sad face lol.

Love, Dallas


	34. Chapter 34

Hey guys I know it seems like I've ditched the story but I haven't! New chapters are coming soon I promise thanks for hanging in there; you won't be disappointed. Love, Dallas


	35. Chapter 35

Hey guys I just wanted to let you know that I haven't abandoned the story; my laptop died =( I'm at work right now so I thought I would update you all on the situation. I feel really bad since I promised a new chapter and then I basically disappeared off the face of the Earth lol. But I will be getting a new computer soon and then writing my butt off to make it up to you guys...so thank you for hanging in there! Love, Dallas


	36. Chapter 36

Here it is guys =) Right before Valentine's Day. It's not much I know but I will keep the chapters coming I promise. I still don't have a laptop so I wrote this on my phone and posted it at work lol. I work at a tattoo shop so I have some down time between doing piercings lol. So brace yourselves...this Valentine's Day will be a little bittersweet

* * *

"Jace, come on!"Jonathan barked as he spun towards the stairs in the ground.

Jace rose to his feet and numbly followed his brother, not bothering to brush the grave dirt from his knees and belatedly realizing that the only reason he was following was because Jonathan had sounded so much like their father.

The boys crept soundlessly down the dirt packed steps, torches throwing their shadows against the walls in stretched and distorted versions of themselves as they strained their ears for the sounds of more Silent Brothers.

Jace drew a seraph blade from his belt and held it tight in his sweaty palm. _Would these even work on the Brothers? What were they doing? What had Jonathan gotten them into? _

In no time at all, Jace's boots were stepping lightly over a pattern of stars in the floor and before he could investigate more, Jonathan sheathed his blade and hurried over to a more impressive one that was mounted on the wall.

Jace appeared at his shoulder, his eyes taking in the curved wings on the pommel of the blade before Jonathan reached out and pulled it off the wall like it belonged to him. Jace saw the muscles in his bicep strain slightly as his brother swung the blade around and slid it into the sheath strapped to his back.

Then Jonathan turned to him, and Jace could see the hilt hovering at an odd angle above his shoulder as if someone had come up behind him and stuck it there, in the side of his neck. Jace swallowed as Jonathan shook his shoulder.

Jace suppressed a cringe as he looked down at it and saw that it was filthy; covered in dirt and caked in the blood of the Silent Brother Jonathan had slain above them. What was happening to him? Since when had he become so fragile, so easily repulsed by the sight of gore?

_This was different..._he promised himself.

"We have to hurry. They'll have alerted the Institute for backup by now," Jonathan said before pulling his sword back out and taking off in the direction they had come at a brisk run. Jace followed, aware of the eerie silence of the Bone City as it pressed down like a weapon on his eardrums.

They had just about reached the dirt steps when suddenly Jonathan let out a cry of pain and crashed to the ground, his sword skittering away out of his reach.

Jace slid to a stop, astonished, as no less than ten Brothers swooped in around Jonathan like birds of prey descending on a carcass.

Jonathan cried out again and clamped his filthy hands to his ears, eyes screwed up tight against the mental assault of the horde that surrounded him. They seemed to not even notice Jace as he stood there, uncharacteristically frozen as the robed figures drew in closer around Jonathan, who seemed to be writhing as if a current of slow electricity were running through him.

"_Murderer...demon...stain on this Earth..."_

Jace could hear their words in his mind, edged with fire so hot it nearly dropped him to his knees. Through watery eyes, he saw a Silent Brother approach Jonathan, his wrinkled white hand outstretched to touch his brother's pain riddled face.

"_Abhorrent creature...sickness," _

Jonathan gasped and tried to move backwards away from the hand on his elbows, and Jace somehow knew that he would not survive it lest the hand make contact with him.

Jace felt the pain in his head multiply suddenly, as if all the Brothers combined their fury and joined in the attack, as he saw blood gush from Jonathan's nose and his eyes roll back into his head.

"_Gabriel," _The seraph blade in Jace's hand lit with blinding light before it was dimmed completely with the darkness of blood.

Jace wrenched his blade out of the back of the Silent Brother closest to Jonathan before turning it on the circle of Brothers that now turned their mental assault fully on him.

Jace's labored panting was the only noise in the Bone City.

Slain Silent Brothers lay all around him, tossed upon each other like rune marked kindling.

His seraph blade slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground, and Jace noticed the gear covering his left arm and chest was no longer Shadowhunter black, but a grim, dripping, traitorous red.

Jonathan made a rattling breath and Jace ran to him, heaving the body of a fallen Brother off of him.

Jonathan was the sickly white color of a corpse, save for the blood that colored his mouth like paint.

Jace pulled him onto his lap and brushed his sleeve across his sweaty forehead, succeeding only in leaving a smudge of unknown blood against his pale skin and in his hair.

Bile rose up in the back of his throat as he felt Jonathan's hard tremors through his lap, heard the low moans of pain that rumbled in his chest but didn't have the air or energy to make it out of his throat. Jace knotted his fingers in the material of his gear as Jonathan's eyelids twitched and his chest heaved with what could only be agony.

The setting was so complete Jace caught himself looking over his shoulder, expecting and dreading to see the horrid face of the laughing demon rise up out of the bowels of the City of Bones.

"Jace," Jace spun back around to look down at him. Jonathan's eyes were cracked open, and red veins were visible around the black irises.

"Yeah? Yeah, I'm here," Jace couldn't help but hold him tighter. Jonathan's eyes opened a bit more as he coughed, a painful sound that had Jace wincing in sympathy.

"The Sword. Did they get the Sword?" Jace shook his head.

"No, it's still here. You're still wearing it." In fact it had been digging into his knee, something Jace hadn't even realized or felt until now. Jonathan frowned and tried to sit up, so Jace released him.

"Stele," Jonathan groaned as he cupped his head in his hands and crossed his legs in front of him.

Jace quickly slid his out of his belt before applying a healing rune on the side of Jonathan's throat, holding his breath against the stench of burning skin. The effect seemed immediate. Jonathan looked around at the bodies that surrounded them and whistled. "Please tell me I took down a few of them,"

Jace looked down at his hands, at the red crescents that were his fingernails.

"No. It was all me."

Jonathan unsteadily got to his feet before offering his hand down to Jace.

Jace stood up on his own, not thinking he could take his brother's hand now that he knew Jonathan was alright. Jonathan walked a few feet away from Jace before kicking aside the leg of a Silent Brother Jace had killed.

Jace veiled his eyes, his stoic soldier training finally returning to him and hardening his jaw. Jonathan bent down and picked up Jace's seraph blade before wiping it clean on the parchment robes of the body at his feet.

Then, with the deepest respect making his black, blood veined eyes shine, he held the blade out to Jace, hilt first.

"Father would be proud of you, Jace."

His blood smeared lips curved into a grin as Jace mechanically took back his blade and tried hard to breathe around the groan in his chest.

"Now you're acting like a Morgenstern."


	37. Chapter 37

Jace was caught in a macabre staring contest with a dead Silent Brother.

He guessed that he must be winning, since the eyes of the dead man were, in fact, sewn shut. Noises from far above him made him tear his gaze away from the mutilated face.

"Dammit! They're here," Jonathan swore as he ran to retrieve his sword from where it had fallen. "Let's go. Stay with me, we have to get to the Portal,"

And then he was running, and it was all Jace could do to keep up with him.

They immerged above ground to find a group of geared up Shadowhunters running with blades drawn between crumbing headstones.

"There they are, stop them!" a man yelled.

Mere seconds later a dagger flew end over end at Jace who deftly dodged it before it chinked off the statue of the screaming angel.

Jace threw himself after his brother, weaving around trees and graves as he tried to convince himself that the man with the dark hair and blue eyes who had just tried to kill him couldn't possibly be related to Alec...

"Quickly! They're getting away! Lightwood, stop him!"

Jonathan suddenly skidded to a stop and turned back, his left hand yanking out a dagger from his belt. He shoved Jace aside as he flipped the dagger in his fingers and raised his arm back to throw it, a look of fierce coldness masking his face.

"No!"

Jace wrenched the blade away from his brother, not knowing that the Lightwood behind him had loosed his own blade.

A startled yell escaped Jace as he felt the knife sink deep into his leg muscle, the steel of it burried all the way to the hilt. He sagged sideways into Jonathan who caught him, his face now lined with fury.

"What was that? Why did you stop me?" Jonathan yelled at him as he pulled them behind the cover of a crumbling stone crypt. Jace limped his weight onto his other leg, one arm still slung around Jonathan's shoulders and stubbornly keeping the dagger from him.

"No more killing," Jace managed to say through gritted teeth. Jonathan shook his head as he pushed Jace back against the marble.

"Well it's them or us," and with that he wrapped his hand around the handle of the dagger and yanked it from Jace's leg with no warning at all.

"By the Angel!" Jace swore as they began running again, "You should've just left it there you son of a-"

"There! There's the Portal come on!" Jonathan yelled.

Jace ran for the shimmering light in front of them, ignoring the piercing pain in his leg.

Just a few more yards and it was over. A few more yards and it was over. A few more yards and he could hide away in his room to lick his wounds for however long his father allowed it...

The ground was suddenly flying up to Jace's face as he felt arms lock around his abdomen from behind. His training kicked in and he hit the ground and rolled, managing to wedge his knee between his body and his attacker.

The blue eyes above him were indeed the same blue as Alec's, but older, with faint lines fanning out at the corners. There were differences though. Alec had never looked at him like this, like he would an enemy. And Alec had never tried to sink a wickedly sharp dagger into his chest, as this man was attempting to do.

Jace shoved the man's arms to the side with a giant burst of strength, heard the blade scrape against against the dirt and rocks by his shoulder before Jace kneed him in the side, effectively removing the man from atop him.

Jace turned and and rolled to his feet-to find no Portal waiting for him. He skidded to a stop as shock blasted through him.

Jonathan had left without him.

Jace took off through the dark cemetary, wounded and covered in blood with his pulse pounding like a triphammer in his ears.

The Shadowhunters were gaining on him and he had no idea where he was going or how long he could keep running from them.

He was a murderer, a traitor. He had slain his own kind. And for what?

Jace slammed his blade into his belt before vaulting up and over the cemetary fence.

He didn't slow down now that he was in the city, instead just continuing to run until he could barely breathe and an iron-like taste filled his mouth. He kept to alleys and side streets, constantly looking over his shoulder and trying to hear for sounds of persuit over his heavy breathing.

If they caught him he was dead. Either they would kill him on the spot or they would arrest him where he would then face imprisonment or death.

Or worse...they would strip him of his Marks...

Jace's boots skidded on the ground and he fell to his knees as the awful thought finally stopped him.

Jace couldn't stop the groan that escaped from between his clenched teeth as a bolt of agony shot through his leg from the knife wound. He place his fingers to the gash in his jeans, wincing when they came away near black in the darkness of the alley he was crouched in.

"Smells like you've had a little accident, Blondie."

Jace spun to his feet so fast his vision doubled. Surely he wasn't looking at four copies of the same person right now?

Wait, not person...vampire. And there were only two, not four. Jace blinked hard, trying to keep his vision in check.

Yes, they were definitely Children of the Night...he could tell by the predatory way they were standing...and looking at him like he were a delicious meal.

"You don't look so hot, Blondie. You lost?"

The boy asked as he moved in a slow circle around Jace. He looked very much like his companion; both had night dark hair and shiny eyes paired with red smiling lips that Jace knew hid sharp fangs.

"Yeah the name's not Blondie. And on my worst day I wager I'm ten times better looking than you, leech." Jace said as he drew his seraph blade with a lazy arrogance he did not feel.

He so did not need this right now. Not when he had an Institute and most likely the Clave out on his tail, searching the city for him. The boy and girl looked at eachother and made similiar expressions of exaggerated fear.

"Ooooh, a Shadowhunter!" the girl giggled, purposely showing her teeth to distract Jace. "We're terrified!"

The boy laughed before dipping a finger down to the wound in Jace's thigh.

Before he could raise his blood soaked finger to his smiling mouth, Jace reached out and broke his wrist.

The vampire hissed and showed him his teeth before backing away, his left hand clutching his damaged wrist.

"Am I wearing a shirt that says 'Free Samples'? Touch me again, bloodsucker, and you'll get a mouthful of angel blade." Jace said.

Suddenly there were quiet footsteps from the rooftops above him. Jace looked up.

All along the edges of the building were shiny eyes and gleaming fangs. Jace counted seven newcomers.

He dropped his eyes to the male in front of him, who was smiling like a python, despite his broken wrist.

Then, with his eyes meeting Jace's, who had murmured his seraph blade to life, he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked Jace's blood off; slowly and purposely.

"Friends," he said in a low voice, speaking to the vampires around them. "We're having Angel tonight."

The crowd hissed their anticipation but Jace barely heard it. He only had eyes for the vampire boy in front of him.

Jace had only enough time to see his pupils dilate in the light of his seraph blade before the boy struck for his throat, jaws wide and fangs thirsty for his angel blood.


	38. Chapter 38

Hey everybody! So today I found out that this story has been nominated for Energize W.I.P.'s Most Promising Award for the Mortal Instruments Series. Pretty cool! So I was wondering if you guys could check it out and vote. There are two other stories in that category that are also very promising (dur) so the competition is gunna be tough. But if you decide to vote for me I'd greatly appreciate it and I'd sent many air hugs and kisses out to you in the world and of course, continue to keep writing A Snake in Morgenstern Manor. Thanks guys!

Here's where you go to vote ( change * to . )

. /

www*energizewipawards*blogspot*com/

then click on nominees and find Mortal Instruments

Love from Dallas


	39. Chapter 39

Valentine stopped his pacing when he heard noise from behind him at the Portal. He strode quickly over to Jonathan as his eldest son emerged from the light and placed a hand down onto his desk, trying to catch his breath.

"Jonathan, you look terrible."

It was true. His son was covered in dirt and blood. His eyes were red—why were his eyes red? "What happened?" Valentine placed a hand on his shoulder and looked behind him for the slightly shorter form of Jace, and discovered with alarm that he was nowhere to be found.

"Jonathan, where is your brother?" his voice held a very sharp tone that managed to surprise even himself. Jonathan looked up and around.

"What? He-he was right behind me!"

Jonathan suddenly moved back out from under Valentine's touch.

"Tell me what happened." The man said in a deadly calm voice.

Jonathan struggled to keep his fear in check.

"We got into the Silent City. I did everything you told me to do. I got the Sword...but as we were leaving, the Institute Shadow hunters showed up, maybe even some of the Clave. We were running to the Portal…I swear Jace was right behind me…"

"So to sum it up, you left your brother to the wolves?"

"No! I told you I thought he was with me! I…I did everything you asked…" There was a long silence then, a silence that Jonathan was unwilling to break. And then—

"Let me see it."

With a strong and unknown feeling making Jonathan tightly clench his teeth, he reached his arm back and slowly pulled the heavy sword free from its sheath at his back. The greedy look in Valentine's eyes strengthened the unknown feeling, and for a foolish second, he considered not handing it over.

But the second passed, and then the sword was in his father's admiring grip. A long time passed in more silence and Jonathan grew impatient.

"So that's what you wanted so badly? What's it for?"

Valentine didn't take his now loving eyes off of the heavy blade. Jonathan noticed that he had never looked at either of his sons with even a fraction of that love. Jonathan closed his eyes as a horrible crushing guilt crashed down over him.

_Jace…you were right…I've been so stupid. _

"That's none of your concern," Valentine replied softly, like his conversation with Jonathan wasn't worth removing his attention from the blade. Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

"Not my concern?" Jonathan scoffed in disbelief.

Valentine finally looked up at him.

Jonathan approached him, now realizing that the unknown feeling that was making the demon inside him thrash and fester was rage directed at his father.

"I could have died getting you that _goddamn _piece of metal I almost did die! And Jace!" Jonathan gestured wildly behind him at the Portal. "Jace had to kill Silent Brothers! For me! Do you have any idea what that's going to do to him? I killed a Silent Brother. We're traitors, _Valentine," _Valentine stared at him blackly, but did nothing more than that to acknowledge his son's blatant show of disrespect: his son's never called him by his first name, at least not to his face.

"It's funny you talk of Jace's well-being when you were the one who abandoned him in the first place," Jonathan swallowed.

"I didn't mean to. I already said that-"

"Yes, yes that it was an accident, that you swear he was right behind you, yes Jonathan…I heard you," Valentine lowered the Sword so it hung down the length of his leg and closed the distance between them.

Jonathan stared up at his father's face, knowing and dreading what he was going to say next.

"But do you actually think that I believe that? Do you actually, for one second, believe that I think you're telling the truth? What reason would you have for making sure your brother made it back home safely? Love? See, I know you, Jonathan. I know your soul. And I know that you deliberately left him behind."

Jonathan stared at him, horrified.

"No! I wouldn't, I didn't! Why would I-?"

"So he would take the fall of course."

Jonathan felt his knees beginning to buckle. His head ached horribly and his vision began to become blurry. He could still smell the iron of the dried blood on his upper lip and it was making his stomach churn. Valentine took advantage of his silence.

"And do you know what they'll do to him when they catch him? If they haven't already?" Jonathan didn't answer. "They'll use the remaining Silent Brothers to claw around in his head to find out what he's most afraid of…and then they'll do it. To find out what he's hiding, why he did the things he did tonight."

"He's tough, he won't tell them anything." Jonathan said with blank eyes. Valentine chuckled.

"Always thinking about yourself, aren't you?" Jonathan's eyes lit up with black rage.

"That's rich, coming from you. Who sends their sons out on a near suicidal mission to get a _fucking sword_ and then doesn't even believe that they're important or equal enough to tell them _why _they almost died to get it? You have some nerve telling me that I'm the selfish one. You know I can't believe I ever listened to you…"

Valentine smiled patronizingly, before setting his palm down on Jonathan's shoulder.

"Son, you're overtired. And it's understandable, you've had a trying night. Why don't you wash up and go rest before you say something you don't mean."

His hand tightened slightly on Jonathan's shoulder, just in case he missed the threat.

But Jonathan didn't miss it. In fact, he welcomed it.

"Say something like what? Something like…what I really think of you? How I think you're a fucking coward? Sending your sons to go do your dirty work so you can keep your own hands clean?"

Jonathan shoved his father's hand off his shoulder then, feeling every cell in his body prickling with rage and adrenaline.

"You're _pathetic," _he hissed.

Valentine narrowed his identical obsidian eyes at him, his body language taut with threat in response to his son's challenging remarks.

"Watch yourself, boy." he whispered.

Jonathan smirked, remembering when that tone would have instantly put him back in his place. Well he'd had enough.

Jonathan stepped back and drew his blood crusted sword as he felt his body settle into an aggressive fighting stance.

"Or what? Are you gunna lock me in the cellar and have Angel Boy cut me to pieces? He wouldn't do it, he already got his revenge…if he's even still alive."

Hurt and guilt surged through Jonathan, making him feel even more reckless.

Surprise flickered across Valentine's eyes at Jonathan's words but he said nothing.

Jonathan felt it rather than saw when his body shifted into a similar offensive position, though he still didn't raise the heavy sword in his hand.

"You don't want to do this, Jonathan." he warned.

Jonathan smiled like one possessed as he rolled forward onto the balls of his feet.

"No, I really think I do."

They stared at each other until Jonathan felt his lip lifting like an angry wolf's…and then he slashed out at his father with his sword.

The clang of metal on metal hurt his ears and the power of the strike sent vibrations all the way up his arm. He quickly pulled his sword back as he spun around to the side, looking for an opening past his father's defenses.

Valentine matched every hateful blow and it infuriated him; made him swing harder…made his aim wilder.

He soon realized how bone tired he was but he knew that he could show no weakness now that he had made this giant foolish leap…he had to make this worth it.

It was luck when his blade slipped off of Valentine's and sliced a shallow cut in the man's arm.

The bright red sheen of his father's blood distracted him—Valentine turned his blade inwards and slammed the heavy pommel into Jonathan's finely sculpted nose.

He felt a sickening crunch and tasted blood thick in the back of his throat as his eyes blurred with tears from the blow. He felt a big hand grab him by the back of the neck and toss him to the carpet as easily as a doll; and Jonathan had only a second to move his sword so he didn't impale himself on it.

Jonathan rolled over onto his back, blinking his vision clear as he heard superior laughter from above him.

Was this all that he could manage? Not more than a minute's worth of anger fueled flailing? His father seemed to wonder the very same…Jonathan gritted his teeth, tasting blood from his broken nose as he slashed out with his sword and felt it slice through fabric and flesh.

His eyes widened as they both stopped and looked down at the long gash that split Valentine's expensive white shirt.

Blood was spreading slowly and surely downwards; it had been a good swing. Valentine looked up at him just as Jonathan was beginning to spring to his feet.

But Valentine's booted foot to his cheek sent him back to the ground and made him see bright spots of spinning light.

Completely against his will, Jonathan's grip on his sword went slack as the fight sank down thoroughly away from him into the carpet like blood.

"I must say, I'm disappointed in you, Jonathan. I expected better from the second best Shadowhunter of the age," Jonathan swallowed hard to stave away the nausea.

"Oh go to hell, Valentine. I swear you only talk to hear your own voice."

Valentine kicked Jonathan's sword away from him, making it clear that the fight was over.

Jonathan knew from Jace's episode of rebellion what part came next. But even though it was staring him in the face, he couldn't feel afraid.

He was too damn tired. Jonathan lay on the carpet with his arms spread out like an angel that had been shot down from the sky, eyes closed, knowing that he couldn't feel anything except extreme exhaustion.

But as Valentine set the point of The Mortal Sword down onto Jonathan's thigh and began to lean his weight down on it, Jonathan opened his eyes and began to feel again.

Back in the Bone City, when he had pulled the large sword down off the wall, it had fooled him. It hadn't looked very sharp then. He knew better now.

Jonathan hurried to sit up, his hands moving to push away the heavy blade. His fingers reached it just in time to feel it sink down through his leg. Jonathan yelled and began thrashing—stupidly, because that only made the pain worse.

Valentine leaned his full weight on the blade and Jonathan was sent past the point of pain; he heard metal scraping against the side of his femur, and then between the sounds of his screaming, the wet fleshy noise the point of the sword made as it came out of the back of his thigh and stuck into the carpet.

Jonathan grabbed uselessly at the blade, cutting his hands as he tried vainly to pull the sword up and out of his leg with his bloody grip.

Valentine said nothing to him as he released the pommel of the Mortal Sword and stepped away to his desk to ring the bell that summoned the butler.

Valentine settled back against the lip of his desk with his arms folded across his chest and observed Jonathan continue to struggle with the blade.

He was stark white and making small helpless sounds now, probably because he had never seen so much of his own blood.

Valentine looked up emotionlessly as Samuel entered his study. The butler had long since learned to never comment on the events he saw taking place in the Manor, and though this was not a usual occurrence, still he made no remark about it.

"Yes, Master Morgenstern?"

"Summon Jasper for me. And when he gets this sword out I want you to make sure it's cleaned up," Valentine said as he began to cross the room. "When it is clean put it in the safe for me until I return," Samuel nodded once.

"Where might I ask are you going, sir?" Valentine walked around Jonathan to the doorway, but aimed his reply over his shoulder to the boy still pinned to the floor.

"To find my son," Valentine walked out of the room without a backwards glance and headed towards the weapons room before shouting back over his shoulder.

"Oh and do try to get all the blood out of the carpet will you?"


	40. Chapter 40

Jasper stopped inside the doorway of Valentine's den, his peridot green eyes scanning the room for the source of the blood that filled his nostrils with the stench of iron. A movement out of the corner of his eye alerted his attention to a small dark shape.

Jasper entered further into the room and cautiously made his way to the object that caught his eye, which he now saw was a black booted foot, slowly writhing and twitching in what had to be pain.

He crept silently forward until he saw the ankle and black gear covered shin the boot was attached to, and then stopped dead as he saw the shaking knee and slightly swaying sword that was stuck point down into the thigh of Jonathan Morgenstern.

Jonathan, lying on his back with his arms spread wide, appeared to not see him. Jasper moved closer, so close that he could now see the slight twitching in Jonathan's blood drenched fingers as well as the sweat that had dampened his pale hair and had gathered on the backs of his eyelids. Jonathan's nose appeared to be broken as well; there were grisly red trails running down from both nostrils.

The stench of blood seemed overwhelming now.

Jasper pressed the back of his hand to his nose and looked down at where the blade entered Jonathan's leg. The material of his gear was soaked a shade of damp and darker black than the rest of his gear and Jasper knew that if he touched the area, the tips of his fingers would come away scarlet with cursed blood.

Seemingly in a trance, Jasper knelt and stretched his hand out, shaking, to touch the area. A morbid part of him wanted to discover if he could sense the darkness inside this Morgenstern, actually feel the taint within the blood, like he could sense the light inside Jace…

When Jasper was inches from the wound, Jonathan moved as if electrocuted.

He lunged toward Jasper, snarling and slashing out at him with a short dagger. Jasper yelled, forearm raised in defense as he threw himself backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the blade. Jasper held his hand to the cut in his forearm and scooted away from Jonathan, who was eying him ferociously with the dagger still clenched in his sweaty grip, body twisted and looking like a savage demon caught in a pentagram. Jasper swallowed as he tried to focus on healing the gash in his arm.

Try as he could though, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the black ones that were staring into his. If he had needed proof of the evil inside of the eldest Morgenstern, he needed look no further.

This darkness that was encased inside the suit of the boy in front of him… Jasper had never seen anything so wrong, so inhuman. The eyes that stared out at him wanted nothing more than to rip the flesh away from his bones and devour it. And the demon eyes in the pretty face ruined everything else; twisted it, defiled it.

Jonathan made a sound that was more animal than person, and clawed across the floor at Jasper's foot. And though it terrified him to do it, Jasper closed his eyes so he could concentrate on healing himself; he knew Jonathan wasn't going anywhere, not with the sword in his leg.

Healed, he opened his eyes in time to see Jonathan raising the dagger above his head and bringing it down at his foot, the closest part of him that Jonathan could get to. Jasper moved seconds before the point struck home.

Now on his feet, Jasper looked down at Jonathan, his torso twisted and breathing heavily, hand still wrapped around the blade stuck into the floor.

"What's wrong with you! I'm going to try to help! Or should I just leave you here to bleed to death?"

Jonathan raised his face up from the ground to meet his eyes.

Then something inside of him spoke a different language; something dark and guttural. Jasper backed away and Jonathan smiled.

_The darkness liked that it was scaring the boy. _He started to laugh. _But the pain was so bad_…Jasper rushed to him as his laughter turned to gasping sobs.

"Get away!" Jonathan yelled. He tried to yank the dagger up out of the floor but found that his strength was deserting him. "Just…just leave,"

Jasper waited for his eyes to close before he pulled the dagger out of the ground and threw it away behind him.

"Your father sent for me to help you," Jasper said cautiously as he scanned the many belt loops that covered Jonathan's gear. Jonathan laughed weakly, still not opening his eyes.

"That's good. Good to know he still wants me around."

Jonathan rolled over onto his back again, wincing, as Jasper settled himself anxiously on his knees, not knowing if Jonathan was going to remain calm or if the demon would decide to make another appearance.

"So are you going to get this out of my leg or not?" Jonathan snapped.

"You would not be so quick to help me, if our fates were reversed." Jasper said in a low voice.

Then he gently placed his fingertips on the top of the sword, absently feeling the cold metal of the handle.

"In fact, I don't doubt you wouldn't just put another sword in me just for the pleasure of watching me struggle and die like an insect pinned to a board."

Jonathan, who had been staring up at the ceiling, closed his eyes as if he couldn't keep them open any longer. Jasper noticed how his pale hair was sticking to his forehead and neck with perspiration.

"No, I wouldn't." he replied quietly. Jasper snorted and felt his hand tighten on the sword's pommel without it meaning it to.

"You just lie freely don't you? With no care to what people think and if they can see through the webs you weave." Jonathan seemed to grow even more exhausted.

"I'm not lying. I wouldn't kill you now I've changed. I'm not the same person who threatened your life before." Every word he uttered sounded like it took great energy to speak it. And when he was finished he lay stiller than before, almost corpse-like, save for the slow moving of his black-clad chest. Jasper considered his words with narrowed sea glass eyes.

"You sure seemed like you wanted to harm me before with that dagger. That doesn't quite seem like the actions of a changed man." Jonathan exhaled heavily, and then winced when the movement caused his body to shift and jostle the heavy blade in his leg.

"That wasn't really me. The…darkness, it was afraid…we've never been hurt like this before," Jonathan mumbled.

"And the darkness…was that what made you hold that knife to my throat that day you questioned me about your horse? Did the darkness make you _mutilate _your own _brother_?" Jonathan flushed at Jasper's accusatory tone.

"Jace and I reached an…agreement about that. It's behind us."

"And where is Jace now?" Jonathan opened his eyes and threw him a furious look.

"Just do your job and get this out of my leg," Jasper continued to brush his fingertips over the smooth metal handle of the Mortal Sword.

"And if I don't?" Jasper felt Jonathan's eyes burning into the side of his face. He continued looking at his slowly moving fingers until the weight of Jonathan's gaze became too much and he had to meet his eyes. They were like pits of oil in his face.

"Then I _will _kill you." he told him. Jasper smiled, showing his fangs.

"That's quite a threat, considering you're pinned to the floor…like an insect," Jasper smiled.

Jonathan shot upwards and grabbed him by the back of his neck, his fingers digging painfully into his flesh with crushing strength.

Jasper made a sound in his throat and used his forearm like a crowbar against Jonathan's chest as he tried to pry distance between them. His struggling was for nothing; Jonathan was much stronger. He dragged him inches away from his face and soon Jasper feared the demon would resurface to take a bite out of him.

But all Jonathan did was whisper through his clenched teeth very close to Jasper's ear.

"Get this out of my leg. Now."

"And then what?"

"And then you're going to heal me."

"What will you do after?" Jonathan shook him, making his teeth clatter.

"Just do it!"

He released Jasper, nearly shoving him backwards, and began to stare at him with so much quiet fury Jasper knew that the demon must be close to stealing his control once again. Jasper could feel the anger in his gaze like it held a physical weight as he stood and wrapped both hands around the hilt of the heavy sword.

"Wait."

Jonathan slid off one of his filthy gloves, pulled it inside out and held it up to his mouth, teeth clamped down tight on the fabric. When he was ready, he looked back up at Jasper.

Jasper tightened his grip on the sword, but knew he wouldn't be able to pull it out without using his foot against Jonathan's leg for balance. He tentatively placed his foot down on Jonathan's sore thigh, the same foot Jonathan had tried to tear off and stab, and tried to ignore the soft growling sound Jonathan made when he adjusted his grip once more.

Then with all his strength, Jasper yanked the sword upwards. And it did not slide out.

Jasper chewed on his lip anxiously and yanked a second time, while trying to block out the muffled sounds that were making it past the leather glove.

This time the blade slid out halfway, screeching horribly against bone as it did.

Jonathan's fingers dug into the carpet as tears filled his eyes and for a moment he lost sight of the sword and was glad, for he never wanted to see it again in his lifetime.

Then his vision cleared and he could see the blade again, and more of his blood than he had ever witnessed before. With a giant heave, Jasper finally pulled the sword out completely, grunting with effort, and Jonathan collapsed backwards onto the floor as pain shot through his entire body.

He curled onto his side and clutched his wounded leg, still groaning into the glove pressed to his mouth.

Jasper all but drug the heavy sword over to the doorway, where he yelled down the hallway for Samuel.

The tidy man appeared and held his hands out for the sword, a handkerchief in one palm to keep his stark white gloves free of blood.

Then without looking in on the scene in the study, Samuel whisked the sword away to be cleaned.

Jasper returned to Jonathan, and was alarmed to see how pale he had turned in the short time Jasper had his back to him. Jasper quickly kneeled next to him and placed both palms flat down on his gaping wound and closed his eyes.

He let the quiet sound of Jonathan's slightly hitched breathing calm him and act as a metronome as he worked the magic for his gift.

Soon he felt flesh and muscle knitting itself back together beneath his touch and heard the intake of breath from Jonathan, who was now removing the bitten glove from his mouth. When he was completely healed, Jasper removed the blood from his hands while Jonathan sat up and observed his leg.

All that remained now was a torn hole in his gear, congealing blood, and the memory of great pain that hadn't quite faded away from his body yet.

Jasper could see Jonathan's throat working, like he was trying very hard to say something but couldn't get the words out. Jasper looked up at his face.

"I can fix your nose too if you'd like." Jonathan shook his head.

"No need."

Then, with his thumbs, he pushed the broken cartilage back into its proper place. The audible crunch it made caused Jasper to wince.

But it appeared Jonathan had done this before; for the end result was as if he had never broken it to begin with.

Jonathan got to his feet somewhat cautiously, almost as if he were doubting that the pain wouldn't be there when he put his weight on his previously skewered leg.

He grinned ruefully then, remembering when Jace had threatened to skewer him with the fire iron.

The grin fell from his face almost immediately as he remembered Jace's current predicament.

_Where was he now? Had the Institute Shadowhunters caught up with him? Was he being tortured for information? Would they even have to torture him…or would he just tell them everything willingly?_

Jonathan couldn't really blame him if that was the case. He wasn't sure what he would do in a situation such as that. He supposed it only depended on whether or not he would see his father again afterwards…

Jasper was watching him with an odd look on his face.

"What?" Jasper hooded his green eyes.

"I can see that you have changed."

"Don't think of me as your friend now just because I haven't killed you," Jonathan said as he walked towards the bar to pour himself a large drink.

He planned on waiting in this room until someone returned, and considering the night he had, he figured he deserved to crack open his father's good brandy.

_And if Valentine got mad at him…oh well, _he thought as he took a drink. He turned to Jasper as he felt the alcohol settle warmly in his stomach.

"And don't forget that I'm not Jace either." He said before taking another large drink, his black eyes never leaving Jasper's.

The fae boy dipped his head in acknowledgment as he left the room that reeked of blood and anger.

"Don't worry. That's something I don't plan on forgetting soon."


	41. Chapter 41

Hey guys a new chapter is coming soon so don't worry I haven't given up on the story and Jace hasn't died. But who knows what he's in for... And thanks for sticking with me for so long I know it must be aggravating when I only update every six months or so. I need to be better with my writing because really when I start to write a chapter it only takes me a few hours to produce what I upload so there's really no reason for the giant spaces in between chapters. It's not like it takes me months to write a chapter so I shouldn't do this to you guys lol. All I can say is sometimes I don't feel like writing and you know, life and stuff. But I'll work on it because you guys have stuck with me and that's pretty effin great =) and seriously the comments you guys leave are so amazing it's really rewarding so if you guys want to keep reading my story I'll keep writing it. And I'll definitely work on not making you guys wait for so long cause that's just mean lol


	42. Chapter 42

* Very short but the story is not abandoned *

There was nothing that could raise goose bumps to the surface of the skin quite as fast as the sound a blade made as it sheered through tendons in the neck and spinal cord.

Jace stepped back, slinging blood off his blade as he watched the now headless vampire thump to the glass strewn pavement. The male vampire's head lay at his boots, eyes open and unseeing with a trickle of blood running from his dark mouth. Jace wondered if it could possibly be his own angel blood.

The female copy of the vampire he had just decapitated screeched her fury before rushing him back against a grimy wall.

"You'll die for that, Nephilim!" she hissed, fingernails raking at his chest in a wild attempt to capture his throat.

Jace slammed a shoulder into her, pushing her away to make room for his blade. She took a stab to the stomach before Jace swung his seraph blade up to sheer off her head—and the two matching vampires were once again identical as they lay side by side on the ground as bloody, dark-mouthed stumps.

"Who's next!" Jace yelled into the crowd of battle crouched figures.

Their eyes glittered in the dim, reflecting light like feral street cats.

Jace spit. He'd had enough of this night.

Enough of the worry and opposition and yes, fear. He'd thought he'd had enough of the violence back in the Bone City but now it coursed through him making his blood blister and his teeth clench.

Now he hungered for the decapitated forms of the Downworlders who had dared to cross him on _this _night.

Two vampires attempted to rush him from his right side; his glowing blade cleaved one from the side of the mouth up to its opposite ear—taking part of his head, but not enough to call it a clean decapitation.

The effect was just as well though…even the undead cannot function with half a face and even less of a brain.

The second vampire stopped his attack to watch his fallen faceless comrade hit the dirty pavement with a graceless thud, blood spurting in fountains and pooling around him like an aura.

Jace flashed his lion's eyes up at the vampire, who was now backtracking.

Jace felt a grim sneer pull up his lips as he sprung over the bodies of the fallen to land on the retreating enemy, knees digging into his sternum to prevent escape.

Jace was aware of light feet running on the rooftops, and realized with derision that the rest of the clan was fleeing.

_Cowards…_Jace thought acidly as he raised the seraph blade high and brought it down piercing the throat of the Downworlder trapped beneath him.

He finished the kill, getting blood spattered on his face like freckles, before standing to survey the alley.

A tingling attention at his back alerted him to another being with him in the alleyway.

Jace tightened his grip on his weapon before whipping around, his seraph blade arcing through the air and coming down to clang resoundingly off another seraph blade.

A spike of fear struck through him, but was literally kicked away as a short, boot clad leg came up and delivered a blast to his chest that sent him stumbling back into the alley wall.

He automatically raised his blade to fend off the attacker, trying to find his breath when a short dagger flipped end over end at him and sliced a valley into his wrist.

Jace gasped, dropping his blade as his attacker approached him. He frantically reached for his fallen weapon, fearing the Clave had caught up to him while he had stupidly taken his frustrations out on the Downwolders.

_He couldn't fight his way out of this….he couldn't kill any more of his own. At least he told himself that._

"Jace, stop! It's me…"

That voice…It couldn't be.

"_Clary?_"


End file.
